Culture Shock :On Hiatus
by IzzySkaluvrGallagher
Summary: Scorpius is culture shocked as he transfers from America to Hogwarts. Everyone has weird accents, don't get his lingo, and uses the weirdest phrases. He wants out, so he goes to the people his dad hates and decides that maybe Hogwarts needs a little chaos
1. A Briton Bred in the U S of A

"Britain? Where's that?" a high-pitched squeak asked from behind me, as my little sister, Lyra hung upside down on the armchair, her platinum hair (that is a mirror shade of mine) hung suspended between the floor and the cushion.

Yeah my sister isn't exactly the brightest penny in the piggybank. (Come to think of it, when was the last time I saw her read an actual book?) But what can expect from a 10 year old pop princess? Not a child prodigy that's for sure.

Hey, don't look at me like that, I'm not dissing her. I love that kid.

Me and my sister have always been like two peas in the Malfoy Mansion pod. Well, I'm not like a pariah or anything among my peers. Hell, I'm actually pretty popular within my class populace of 500. But when it comes to house parties, I'm the guest, not the host. And with parents like mine, who can blame me? I'm the son of Draco and Astoria Malfoy. No kidding, that's seriously their names. Who wudda thought? And of course because their names are circus derived, they wanted to curse their children with weird names too. So behold! Scorpius Hyperion and Lyra Artemis. I got hell in Kindergarten.

Being the witty 15 year old that I am I decide to reply in the best manner that I can. Sarcastically. With my face still glued to the screen of my laptop, I said in a catatonic voice. "Great Britain: an island lying to the northwest of Continental Europe. Ninth largest island in the world. The largest in Europe. Is surrounded by over 1000 islets. Continent : Europe. Population of approximately 58.9 million people, oh and plus 4." While my fingers flew across the keyboard.

"How'd you know all that?" Lyra asked, her eyes as wide as saucers. She's so innocent I cant help but love her.

"Wikiedia does wonders, Ly." I finally turned around to point at the computer window and smirk my infamous smirk. My mom calls it the Malfoy smirk. My dad calls it his mirror image. Moi? I just call it cocky. Which fuels the already lit flames of amusement of my parents, much to my dismay. I mean as much as I love my family, (yeah even grandpa Luce. Hehehe, he never liked that name. He insists we call him Grandfather. Seriously. Is he for real? Who does he think he is? Al Pacino? I told this to my dad once and he just flipped out and took away my xbox.) I hate the fact that everyone thinks I have to be a miniature Draco. I'm not, so I try to show it every chance I get. But getting into trouble and doing the opposite of whatever rule they decide to give to me, doesn't give the right message. It just gives me less t.v time.

Lyra decides to deny the satisfaction of a smart comment and ignores me; she sighs though and continues her enlightenment list of questions. "So why are you moving there again?" She twirls a lock of her platinum hair between her fingers and raises her bright blue eyes to meet my own.

I know it sounds totally fem for me to even think this but sometimes I wish I had her eyes. Kinda sibling jealousy in a way, but I really wish I had her eyes color. She got mom's color changing blue-green eyes. While I'm stuck with Dad's steely grey ones. Sucks, but at least I have my mom's eye shape. Yeah, I have my Dad's bone structure, my Dad's eye color, My Dad's hair color and even my most of my Dad's facial expressions. All I have is my Mom's nose and her eye shape. And also as Lyra likes to remind me that I have girl lips, courtesy of dear old mum. Thanks, I got a Greengrass girl pout. I applaud myself.

Speaking of lips, I used mine to answer back in a drawl that people say reminds them so much of Dad's (Shoot!) "Told you a million times before Ly. I'm going there for some finishing school thingy." Yeah, I'm being shipped off to some country that I barely know with a bunch of kids that read encyclopedias instead of comics like normal people.

But then again, teenage wizards…is normal even remotely possible?

Hogwarts. I am not kidding that's the name of the school mom and dad are shipping me off to. They're taking me out of my very settled, comfy, upperclass, home in the Great U.S of A, to go to some snotty british school (that by the way, sounds contagious) where all the kids munch on scones or whatever. Okay, I'm being irrational, so sue me. I'm not being racist, It just blows that I have to leave my friends, my admirers, my stalkers, my ex-girlfriends, and of course Merlin Ambrosius High School, New York. And alright maybe it must have been one party too much for me. But I'm a red-blooded male. I gotta live right?

Well my rent's must've finally gotten the last straw when I came for dinner with the grandparents completely wasted. But god, I didn't think Dad was serious when he said that I was going off to his old school to learn some discipline. Well, actually I didn't remember a whole lot about that night, except I laughed. A lot.

"I don't get it! I get drunk a lot of times! Why did he choose now to send me to England?! Now of all times! At the start of my Freshman year!" I finally snap under all the built up frustration and end up using my sister as a therapist.

"You shouldn't have gotten drunk on the night of the dinner. Maybe if that happened Dad wouldn't be sending you off to England." Lyra pointed out.

"But it was a month ago. I didn't think he was serious about the moving thing until he told me three days ago to start packing up. Now I got 2 weeks until September 1, and I'm off to big, bad England. All my stuffs in boxes and we're leaving to England tomorrow, because it's not bad enough I had to say goodbye to everyone in like 3 weeks, which is physically impossible to say goodbye to your 4 years of life, but I have to leave 2 weeks earlier than needed because I have to get all my stuff. Um hello? Has anyone in England heard of The Owl Service? Or at least fedex? How can Mom and Dad do this to me? Sending me to a new country all on my own! I have to face a grade all on my own! I'll be in a new school, an new country, practically a new planet! I've grown up in America all my life! The only thing that ties me to Europe are my parents."

"Uh, Scorp weren't you born in London?"

"Right whoops. I always forget that."

"Don't forget Grandfather and Grandmother. We're related to them too."

"This is making me feel _soo _much better." I say, sarcasm obviously dripping off my tongue.

"Look," Lyra says, silencing me with a look. "Mom and Dad's heart is obviously in the right place. He's throwing all these things at you because he knows that you can survive it and come out a better person. Because let's face it, Scorp, you need discipline, culture, a firm-hand, and most definitely a change. And I think that Hogwarts must have that if they're willing to send their only son across the oceans to finish his school. And besides you need to straighten yourself out, I know you have the potential to be great."

My mouth has been gapping open for the entire speech. "How'd you….become….smart?"

Lyra rolls her eyes. "Since I started listening to mum and dad talk about you for the past year." She admits with no trace of embarrassment. That's another quality I love about my sister. She knows what to say, even when its not her own words. And she's not afraid to say who she quoted from. That's Malfoy pride and self-confidence all the way.

Lyra gets up to visit the bathroom, but before she exits she turns around with big, baby eyes and asks. "Scorpius, you're not going to forget about me right? You'll still keep in contact with me? You wont be one of your friends and be mean to me over the summer right? You'll write to me and send me letters right?"

I smile, a genuine one. Because though she's growing up. She's still my baby sister. " Even if I have to ride a hippogriff bareback, I'll send you letters from Hogwarts. Maybe even a picture. If I can manage." I hug her, cuz I cant help but. "Of course, I wont forget about you Ly-Ly. You're my baby sis. We Malfoys gotta stick together." She hugs me back. It's always been like that. Close, because there's no one else. I wait a couple of seconds before I start tearing up and detach myself gently. "Come on, little freakshow. No sibling PDA remember?" I joke.

Lyra rolled her eyes and gives me a W, in response. Dad's right, I'm totally rubbing off on her. Awesome, I have created a rampaging preteen to wreak havoc among the city dwellers of New York city, while I am away. It's Alive! It's Alive! I'm so proud.


	2. No to England Yes to Diagon Alley

Hey I just realized that once again I forgot to put in the neccestities in the last chapter. SO here you go

I know that some people think that the story is all romance, because its Rose and Scorpius. But it's not. The pairing is Scrose of course. (how could it not be?) but theirs another storyline. I couldn't put Albus on the main character thing without people thinking that the wrong thing. Its not a S/A story.

Disclaimer: Not mine, just the storyline.

Sorry if it's not written the same way as the first chapter. It's 2 in the morning and I'm slightly disoriented. Don't worry I'm sure I'll get the mojo back on by the middle of this chapter. Just bear with me please….Oh, and some people might get the impression that I hate England because of how Scorp sees it. But honestly, I dont. Just to clear that up

Now that that's done. Enjoy and Please Read and Review.

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2 days and and hour later

So far England kinda blows. No offence to all those Brits and stuff, but yeah, in my opinion, it blows. Lyra loves it, though. Because it's so pretty with it's double decker buses and black cabs. Her words not mine. I think it's really quiet here. Like too quiet. Like if I went to the sidewalk and yelled "Yatta!" then people would actually here me. Not like in New York.

After packing up, and sending things to the place we'd be staying at. (I talked my Dad into checking me into some place in Diagon Alley called Rickety? Slicky? I forget, I think it was called something Cauldron. No way am I living in my grandparents Manor for 2 weeks straight. That's too much Lucius for me to handle. And plus, I asked my friend from school who visited England last summer and she said that that the place was nice.) We finally took the portkey to England. It was a one hour trip. Of doing practically nothing. Oh the pain.

An hour of traveling, four numb belly buttons and a bad-tempered teenager later, we finally arrived in dear old England.

I had landed flat on my ass, while Lyra lay sprawled on the floor, giggling like crazy. When I looked up I saw my Mom and my Dad on standing all prim and proper as if they drop by all the time. How they managed to not fall over is a mystery to me. Must be their strong will to not look undignified. It's the only thing that could muster up that much power to not trip over.

"Come on son, stand up already we don't have all day." My Dad said half-good naturedly, half really annoyed, when he saw me staring. Gee Dad, I haven't mastered the art of not landing on my butt when we portkey. Sorry I'm such a disappointment.

Grumbling, I stood up and dusted off my jeans, and did a discreet 180 while stretching.

I saw that this must be a special room where the tourists come from, cuz people of all colors and faces were stumbling (or rarely standing.) from portkey landing. Most of everyone were comically rubbing their navals. Much to my shame, I was one of them.

I have to admit though, the ministry of magic was sick. With the hustling crowds, flashing rooms, practically medieval architecture, and cloaks of all different colors, the Ministry of Magic looked kind of like a place in a book in a way. But the fountain was unbelievable. With it's gold life-like statues, it looked (to quote) bloody brilliant.

But when we stepped out, the gods decided to play with me, because it started raining, good thing our bags were all in my mom's purse. (To those who don't get it. It's Magic, duh.) Too bad we had to walk all the way to the subway, or as my Dad calls it "The Tube." I couldn't tell my Dad why I was cracking up at the word. Cuz I'm pretty sure he'd ground me if I told him.

Except for whole buying-tickets-and-putting-it-into-a-slot-thing, the Tube thing was normal. Everyone was more civilized in England. No one was trying to feel you up, or steal your jacket like in Brooklyn. But the place was like a maze. Mom had to ask for directions from a man in a navy uniform and orange vest. My Dad gets all PMS around muggles.

As much as I love my Dad, when it comes to the non-magical peeps out there he annoys the hell out of me. Him and his whole anti-muggle campaign. I mean, I have a few muggle friends, and they're cool, but Dad acts all high and mighty around them which drives me crazy. It's the 21 century for Pete's sake! Muggles are awesome with technology. But he gets all broody when I mention this to him, and I've never heard him agree with me on this, because all he does is grunt. I think he's sorta hypocritical though, becuase I don't see him complaining about the Wii.

We got on the tube and sat down. I couldn't hold back as a snort as the comm said totally seriously to "mind the gap." Which once again made my Dad stare at me confusedly. I wouldn't blame him if he thinks I'm like mentally handicapped. I'm not sure if I'd fully disagree anyway.

Then once we got off the subway, we headed to a street on the other side of the road.

I nearly got a heartattck, when we tried crossing the street, cuz apparently someone forgot to mention to me *coughdadcough* that they drive on friggin wrong side of the road! And they drive like maniacs to top it all off! After almost being runnover by a speeding mini coop I wondered if all English drivers have this competition on how many people they can make into roadkill. I mentioned this to Lyra and she had to stop to breathe because she was laughing too hard.

A car had stopped right in front of me while I was crossing and I couldn't help but slam my hands on the hood. "I'm walking here!" forgetting for a small moment that I'm not in NYC. I realized my mistake when I noticed that people were staring at me, geez was I that loud? I guess, my voice broke through the quiet that is London. Deciding that some fights are best left alone, I gave the affronted driver a carry-on wave and powerwalked away, my head bowed in shame.

I was caught off guard when someone tutted behind me and said"You should learn to mind your manners." An old granny, with a crisp english accent, that I never met before, by the way, told me as I stepped onto the sidewalk. I couldn't help thinking 'Um, alright random woman. I shall do that.' Do all english folks talk to one another? Kinda weird. Wiping the WTF look off my face and nodded once before walking away.

"Would if I had any, ma'am." I said loud enough for her to hear, as I caught up with my family. Not before hearing the lady mutter darkly. "Americans."

Thankfully they didn't comment on this. An advantage that comes to being a Malfoy: in Family outings, talking isn't necessary.

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Okay two words for Diagon Alley. Freakishly Amazing.

When we first arrived in the Leaky Cauldron (I knew it was something Cauldron), I have to say that I was disappointed. Okay more like completely horror-struck. I mean I thought that I was going to sleep here. And if the entrance to the place was like this, then what would the alley be? But the minute Tom took me to my room, and I dropped the bags and stuff. I saw that it wast so bad after all. Sure, it was shabby, and sorta had a worn look to everything. But it looked, no other word for it but, cozy. And really comfy.

My dad was disgusted of course (well duh, its Dad.) and asked if I really wanted to stay in this 'dump'.

I suddenly, out of nowhere got the need to defend it, so I just told him my room had character. By which he replied by shaking his head and turning his fat head. What a great uptight father he is. I bet he wonders how we're related. I wonder the sae thing, dad. I wonder the same thing.

I was kinda dreading the entrance to Diagon Alley. I mean, I knew nothing would compare to The double WW (it's a wizard shopping community.) back in the Big Apple. But if I was going to spend the rest of my years (if I don't get kicked out or anything. I'm not planning anything. Ahem.)here, then I might as well like a place. I prepared myself for an Alley of disappointment, as Mom tapped the bricks on the wall.

Well, once again I should never judge a book by it's cover because the minute the bricks made way to form an archway (which was wicked magic there, by the way.) I was blown away.

The packed streets were full of bright shops and busy people. Everyone were talking, people were moving. Kids were running around. And the atmosphere was filled with shop bells ringing, people haggling, laughing, walking, talking, and my eyes were obscured by the cornucopia of colors and textures.

In other words it was just like the wizard community in NYC. Even though, the one back home was more bigger and packed. The one here reminded me of the The Double WW behind Tribeca. The street being wizard made, was of course not noticed by the passerby's seeing as the entrance was through a thrown out specials board behind an alley.

But the crowded space of Diagon Alley was still cool nonetheless. I breathed in (some might call it a gasp) a breathe of relief. England wasn't that bad after all. Now if they could only do something about the way they talk…..

"Excuse me can you move?" I heard a voice ask from behind me. I turned around and saw a black haired boy with untidy black hair and bright green eyes. He had two red-head females behind him. One looked like his mother and the other looked like his sister. They didn't notice me since they were in a deep conversation with each other probably about shoes or some other thing that's mind blowingly boring.

"Sorry." I muttered, and stood aside. He looked at me kind of weirdly. Great, what did I do now? I felt ticked me off, and snapped rudely. "Dude, can I help you with something?"

He blinked, then grinned lopsidedly. Alright. Not what I was expecting, but okay. "Are you American?"

Huh. With the way he was staring at me in awe you'd think I was the first one he'd ever met. Don't english wizards own cable or at least a t.v. "Yeah, what of it?" I say defensively.

He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the red-head lady infront behind him.

"Draco?" I looked over and saw the older one of the two red-heads looking at me in disbelief. Okay, anyone that met me, knows that one of the things that really ticks me off, is when people call me Draco. I mean, I get there's a family resemblance and all, but whatever. It still gets to me every time.

I glanced at the black head boy, and he was staring at his mom with a dumbfounded look.

Before I could reply angrily, I heard my mom call. "Scorpius!" Thank God. I might have gotten a slap on the face from the red head, if I replied what I was thinking of replying at the moment.

Glancing over my shoulder I saw my parents on the other side of the road, and my Mom was motioning me to come over. 'Gee, wish I could ma, but some strange lady thinks I'm Dad, let me just clear this up, be there in a sec' I said in a look that I, hopefully, conveyed to my mom. I turned back to face the other two and eyed the boy to the woman, then the woman to the boy. Giving them a look, I decided to at least leave with style and said casually while I started to stroll away.

"No to the Draco. And yes to the American."

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	3. The Unexpected Guilty Pleasure

Okay, I just found out that I got like 200 or so hits and only 5 reviews. (?????) Aw come on! Culture Shock isn't that bad, I hope. I mean, at least it has good presentation. And okay, I guess it may be misspelled in some parts were I forgot to fully erase everything and some other errors. But at least its double spaced, right? Well Please guys! Review for Scorpius, if you cant do it for me. But to those who did review. (!!!) THANK YOU SO MUCH!! Those reviews got me through a really horrible math class.

You know the usual, blah blah blah disclaimer, blah blah not mine. I'm going to have my exams soon. so e last this might be the last chapter I'll post in a while. Maybe, I'm not sure. Hope you like this one. I dont want to say anything or I might ruin the story.

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"Who was that?" Lyra asked me as I finally rejoined them. I opened my mouth to answer her, when I was interrupted, again. For what, the third time today? Seriously, will I ever get to answer people for the first time?

"Yes, good question. Who were you talking to, Scorpius?' My dear old Daddy, asked me suspiciously, his eyes peered at me through slits.

"Geesh, no need to scrutinize me. I'll answer you, Alright?" I say out loud, shrugging my shoulders uncomfortably. My dad knows exactly how to get to me, with his calculating, creepy, silver eyes. And yeah, I know it's bad to call your Dad creepy. But at moments like these that is exactly what he is. Plus, it doesn't help that I hate being under the microscope like that.

"It was just some random passerbys, randomly asking me to get out of their random way. Okay? Randomly." I added. As if I didn't know that I already used random 3 times in a sentence.

After doing his usual not convinced 'uhuh'. He examined me once more before turning to mom.

We all kept on moving, towards God knows where, while my parents talked in low voices.

Suddenly Dad, stopped dead in his tracks. He halted so fast that it took my mom 3 paces to realize he wasn't walking along side her.

Oh and did I mention, that I was walking behind him, so that when he stopped I happened to slam right into him, practically headbutting him on the friggin shoulder. Oh I didn't? Well it hurt. Bad. The guy is a friggin skeleton. He had like no fat on his shoulders to cushion the blow. So yeah, ow.

Although, I'm going through my growing years, (the teachers in my school like to used these words because apparently we're too immature to not make a lewd comment when they say puberty. God I miss my friends.) my growth spurt begun last year. So unfortunately, I'm still until my Dad's ear.

Confused about how I didn't bump into the back of his head? I was slouching to get better access to the convo, of course.

"Scorp, are you alright?" Lyra asked me, as I rubbed the tip of my nose with the palm of my hand. "Yeah. I'm effin great, Ly." I muttered sourly, i said through my hand that was holding the outside of my nostrils, while I twitched my nose. I imagine I look like a total freak.

Either she didn't pick up on my sarcasm, or she chose not to. Because she nodded then broke into laughter. "You shoulda seen your face when you banged into Daddy. It was so funny."

I threw one of my glares in her general direction. I didn't say anything to her though, because I was concentrating on my dad.

"-is it that the day that I came back from being off the radar for 13 years. They show up! Out of all the days in the summer, why now?" My Dad hissed through clenched teeth. Not even stopping to say sorry for practically shoving my nose back into my cranium. I exaggerate, bite me.

"Draco, darling," My Mom said calmly. Ugh, old people and their words of sweet nothings. It makes me wanna puke. "Don't overreact. So Ginny was here with her son and daughter. It doesn't mean you have to make such a fuss about it. They'll come to get their children's school things, and so will we. That is all. We're not going to invite them over for supper, or anything."

My Dad nodded vaguely, as if he was half-listening and half-not. I know the feeling sometimes I tune out my mom too.

He sighed and nodded half-heartedly. Dad went about two paces when he stopped, this time as abruptly as the first. Luckily I was prepared and stepped quickly out of the way to avoid another painful (on my part. I'm sure.) collision. I would have done it smoothly too, if Lyra wasn't standing right next to me. So this time I crashed into her. Damn it! I have no mind to feet coordination at all.

After disentangling myself from Lyra's scratching and swearing (no more t.v for her.) I looked up at my Dad. And saw him with the expression of a deer caught in the headlights. I followed his gaze and saw that it was fixed on, for some queer reason, a bright purple pamphlet. It looked pretty awesome with big, bold letters flashing different colours. It wrote : COME ALL! COME ALL! TO WEASLEY'S WIZARD WHEEZES! Diagon Alley. The Headquarters of The World's Top Joke Shop.

Woah, this is so cool. The Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is one of the shops that I visit almost regularly. I was a frequent buyer of their portable swamps and their poxy dropping soaps. I wonder if the founders of the WWW would sign my shirt. Or better yet a picture. Or a picture that they could sign!

"I'm going to need a drink." I heard Dad dazedly. Turning back to my Dad, I saw a green tinge to his normally vampire face before he turned around and marched back to the direction of the inn.

"Should I……." I asked my mom, who was faintly shaking her head with an almost sad smile on her face.

"No need, dear. He'll come around eventually. He's just having one of his nostalgic school moments."

My father is an odd man.

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"For the last time Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, will you just stop with your questions?" my mom finally told me after the billionth time that I asked her about this mysterious Ginny woman.

The name sounded familiar, but then again I do know a lot of Ginnys.

"Does she have kids my age? Are they in Hogwarth? Is that the name? I forget. Was she one of your friends from school? And what is up with Dad?" I rambled on at top speed, as my mom leafed through the magazines in a bookstore named Flourish and Blotts. "Is she here? Are we ever going to meet her family? I wouldn't mind if they were my age."

"Mo-om my ears are bleeding!" Lyra whined as she tugged on my mom's sleeve.

"Enough, you two." My mom scolded gently. She put the magazine back on the rack, and looked at me with an exasperated look on her face.

"That's it. I'm going to take Lyra out for an ice-cream." There's my mom for you. All calm and collected and level-headed.

Wait hold on a second.

"How come I cant come, mommy?" I asked, frowning. I pulled my lips (courtesy of miss Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy.) into a puppy dog pout. My eyes looked up to stare into my mom's eyes that were bottle blue at the moment.

"Because I need to get the ringing out of my ears dear." She commented, looking away from my irresistibly adorable face (it's my mom's weakness, which she had unfortunately confessed to me once.). She looked down, sighed then smiled. "Don't worry, we'll be back with a fudge sundae. Just don't blow anything up. " She gave me a pointed look.

No promises. "Sure, sure."

With that my mom kissed me on the cheek (I cringed, and wiped my cheek with the back of my hand.) "Mo-om." I bowed my head, and slouched my shoulders. "We're in public."

Which I got a slap on the back of my head. What a sweet tempered lady, my mom is. Then she took Ly's hand, kissed me one more time and exited the bookstore, the shop bell ringing in her wake.

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Okay I have a confession to make.

No I'm not gay to all those odd thinkers out there. Sorry guys, I'm as straight as an arrow.

Nothing like that. No. One of Scopius Hyperion Malfoy's (now you know it's something big when the guy uses his much hated middle name. And refers to himself as a third person…..Well that's more of a sign of an asteroid-sized ego, but whatever.)biggest confessions is that:

I actually like reading books.

Yeah, has hell frozen over. Cuz I think we got ourselves a reading Malfoy. Quite a shocker.

Well the thing is I'm a secret book lover. Emphasis on the secret.

Don't take it the wrong way though, I'm not a nerd in a closet or anything. I'm not ashamed of liking reading. It's just that I like reading books, but I'm not like some dork who retains everything I set my 4 eyes on.

I just like the feeling of forgetting everything, and still be sober. But sadly, I still do the opposite on almost regular basis, because very rarely I find a good wizard who can write a decent thriller novel.

Why not muggle writers? They ask. Well, you see I would love to expand my horizons, but my dearest daddy wont let me. And no, I don't always do what Dad tells me to, just this. It's stupid, he allows a dvd player but the second he sees me reading Anne Rice, he grabs my book and tells me to haul my butt off the couch and practically forces me to do manual labour. A.K.A: chores

I'm not reading too much into it, either. It took me 6 hours of the dumbest chores, (that included repainting a bench, which was by the way NOT OUR PROPERTY.) four aching limbs, about 13 breaks in which I asked dad for my book back, and 13 rejections for me to realize that the man only asked me to work when I had asked for my book back.

Add the irrational use of power over a minor, and the fact that he hates muggles makes Draco a petty, petty man.

Therefore it's not my fault that I don't have the deep passion for books and thirst for knowledge. I blame my dad. As do most other melodramatic teens do. I guess, you could call my love for books a guilty pleasure. Yes, I can assure you. I am not gay.

I walked around the bookstore, absentmindedly running my hand over the spines of books, looking for book 1 on my booklist. Glancing down at the piece of paper, and read The Standard book of Spells, Grade 5 by Miranda Goshawk. Nice name. Short, simple and easy to make fun of.

Loping over to the first bookshelf I could see, I rummaged around and found A History of Magic on the shelf just right in front of me. I must have missed it, while I was looking for the spells book. How very Lyra of me.

Snorting at myself (yeah, I do human stuff like that.) I was about to take the book out of the shelf. But the object of my attention, suddenly flew out of it's place. I noticed three things as I stared at the space where the book had been like seconds there before. One was that someone on the other side of the bookshelf must have grabbed it seconds before I did. Two was that the bookshelf must have some sort of spell on them, because the books didn't topple over the space, and block out the view of the opposite end of the bookshelf. (Then again, what should I expect? Wizard bookstore, on a wizard street, in a Wizard alley. Everything adds up now, thanks to my slow moving brain.) And the third thing I noticed was that I was staring into a pair of round, bright blue eyes that had a halo of wildly curly red-brown hair.

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hahaha! I'm leaving a cliffhanger, because I'm cruel like that. Wondering who the red-head is? If so, then how thick are you? okay then, now that that's done. ta-ta all! I'll get to working though. PLEASE, PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!! I NEED THE WILL TO GO ON!!! The Next chapters kinda funny. I'm having a fun time writing it.


	4. For Pain, No Name

Hey All! Oh my god! THANK YOU READERS!! Some actually replied to my rather pathetic pleas. Hopefully this chapter will be up to your expectations. Dont want to ruin anything. My lips are sealed. *locks it and throws away the key*.

[oh no! were's the key!?!] *frantically searching for it*[Urgh! fine this will do.]

*Holds up notebook.*

Discaimer: Not Mine -sobs-

*turns page and scribbles*

Enjoy! Oh and Read And Review!!!

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First thought in my head.

_Woah, nice eyes. Kinda cute hair. _

Next thought in my head.

_Please let the rest of her be as hot as her eyes.. _

I wasn't aware that I had been staring for 10 seconds without moving. I guess I must have been the only one that didn't realize because the brunette/redhead's eyebrows slanted to form a frown. "Can I help you with something? Or can you just stop staring at me?" The mystery girl growled fiercely. Feisty chick. Sweet, I like that. Sounds good so far. Except for the english accent, it still sounded kind of snooty. Oh well beggers cant be choosers, right?

I noticed that I could only see her eyes. And the thick mane on her head that some people call hair. But I preferred to see it as a halo, because her eyes must be one of an angel's ( What the hell? When have I started sprouting corny lines like that? Is there something in the air in London, because I was petty sure I was cheese-free when I left The States.) The rest of her face was covered by the bookshelf, while the upper part of her face peeking over it.

"As a matter of fact, you can help me. You see, the book you probably have in your hands is mine," I grinned, in a way that most girls (and to my utter embarrassment, some guys) say is charming.

Rule one. If you happen to be speaking to what looks like so far as a hot girl. Seem friendly, but not yet interested. Because she might turn out to be ugly.

The blue eyes looked down as if she was searching for something. And when she looked back up she cocked an eyebrow and said. "Funny, I don't see your name on it."

"Don't think your's is there either, sweetheart." I replied, trying to discreetly stand on my toes, so that I could catch a glimpse of the rest of her face. Oh what a guy does to get a girl.

"Yes, but seeing as the book's in my hands. I think that that might be easily remedied." Her eyes crinkled at the corners as if she was smiling. Damn, I still cant see anything else.

I smiled, appreciatively at her wit. The girl could banter, without being transparent and obviously flirting. That's hot. I thought as I stepped on the bookshelf to see if I could get an inch or two taller.

That's when I realized what I was doing. Wait, what the hell? Why am I practically standing on the bookshelf, trying to catch a glimpse of her face, when she was just on the other side? How many braincells did I lose when I bumped into Dad anyway?

I looked to the right, and saw that the opening was about 5 yards away. While to my left I had a dead end. Nice going Scorp, why didn't you just barricade yourself?

When I turned back to tell this mystery chick to freeze for like 10 seconds, while I sprint to the other side, I saw that she was looking at me with confusion written all over her-ahem- eyes.

"There you are! What in the world are you doing? Come on, let's go. Dad's out already. We're all waiting for you!" a boy's voice cut in, all of a sudden. He sounded like about 12 years old. But then again, all English people sound the same to me.

Except for The Girl's. She sounded like gravelly, but still feminine. Almost sexy, except still innocent. (I should have tried out for the poetry club). To me, she sounded enchanting. Not my usual choice of words, but it's the closest thing I can come up with, should I describe her.

And from the sound of things, my Enchantress was leaving.

Oh Great.

"Alright, Hu. I'm coming already. No need to get your knickers twisted." She said, no duh irked as hell. Hey, the accent didnt sound so bad when she used that sentence. She turned to me "Here, you can have the book. Just don't vandalize it too much with your signatures." I saw the pair of blues sparkle with laughter, a really nice sight by the way, before the book was shoved in my face. Okay, I could have lived without the book, thank you very much.

I blinked. Then ran.

5 seconds was all it took for me to run from where I stood to the other side. Who knew I could run that fast? Man, they should have put a hot chick at the finish line for track meets. Oh wait, I'm not in MAHS. Does Hogwertz even have a track?

_You see it is the irrelevant thoughts like these that result in situations like this._ My conscience said. I couldn't help agree with my father's voice. Yeah for some creepy reason, it has my father's voice. _Oh shut up._ I thought back. I'll get into that later.

I heard the shop bell ring, and squinted to see the back of the girl's head as she was briskly walking out. Apparently, its not bad enough that she had a head start. But now I discover she also practically jogs everywhere.

I was about to call her, when she stepped out the door ( Or glided over to the door. Honestly I cant see the difference between her walk and gliding. Sorry about the unusual display of corn on my part. Maybe, it's something in the water.) And disappeared from my view.

Doors are beginning to annoy me a hella lot.

I couldn't get her long legs, slim figure, and wild fusion of red and brown hair out of my mind while I ran to the door.

But by the time I got outside. Guess what. She was, of course, gone.

And I didn't even get her name.

This. Sucks.

Well, I have to admit. The girl's got mysterious down to pat.

After about 10 minutes of searching on the spot, by which passerby's must have thought I was possessed or something with all my head turning, I finally gave up and turned around to walk into the store.

But thanks to my luck I ended up with a bruise on my head the size of Cali. I guess, I must have pushed instead of pulling it, because I ended up slamming face first into the hard wood.

God, please stop putting things infront of me, it's bad enough I mostly walk into them.

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So did you like it? I know Scorpius seems like a hormonal, teenage jerk. And he is.....but well....you'll understand him in a few more chapters. I dont want to give anything away...so just stay with me on the story. =p Alot more Scrose coming up though. And a certain black-haired person is entering in the next chapter. Next chapter will start the storyline, so stay tuned! I hope you guys liked this chapter! Please tell me if you did or didn't (it's okay, I can handle it. I think.) by clicking the button above.

Okay, I just want to clear something up for readers. Culture Shock is actually not fully romance, although romance is one of the main genres I guess along with drama, but there's alot of self-finding and other storylines to it. Okay there are alot more storylines that are dealing with the youth of today and some dark stuff. Just wanted to warn you, it's alright if you dont want to read it after this though (sobs). Just a warning to those who are expecting a lovey-dovey remake of Twilight. It's not, so sorry I had to string you all along by putting Rose's and Scorpius' name together in the character category. You can leave, if you want. I wont stop you. I'll only cry silently. (proceeds to do so.)

Alright then! Now that that's done. For those who are still there and interested. I love you all greatly and I hope you need not be disappointed, Rose and Scorpius are definately the pairing. But there's also another few storlines. Most lead back to the main one. I know I'm being either cryptic or not making any sense at all. But you'll get it in the next chapters. Hopefully. Well, I'm rambling now, so back to the story. Hold on! I'm so sorry if this chapter wasnt the epic meeting that everyone had anticipated. But dont worry lot's more to come. Hope you like this, writing the next chapter in 5 seconds after I post this story. The authors's note is practically a novel. Oh well, just keeping the audience informed.

Hope you like this and I didnt disappoint the fans of CS.

~Ms. Planning-Ahead. (Scorpius says 'hi' and gives a wink to those who think he's a prick in some very many ways.)

Read And Review!!!!


	5. Why Do We Even Have Names, Anyway?

**Hey Readers! Thank you all so amazingly much for all the reviews! I love you, I love you, I love you! So who could guess the certain raven haired person? Well you'll find out soon. To HMMadewell And Sortingmahat: Glad you love this Scorpius, I wanted to him to be a dick, honestly. But at least someone finds him charming.**** To Avenall: Thanks. Hope you find this Chapter is good as the rest. To Blueapplepie: You're review really made my day, Thanks so much! I really appreciate them, so don't stop! And to all those who are still with me…Thank you Thank you Thank you. And did I mention thank you? Well thanks. To all the rest I cant remember now (it's 2 o'clock in the morning. I honestly dont remember alot.):****Your reviews were what kept me from strangling myself in school, so keep on reviewing unless you want this story to be uncontinued due to the fact that the writer killed herself. JOKING! **** Thanks for staying with Scorpius on this journey from America to England. I'm definitely adding a special thanks to those who I didn't mention here, in the next chapter. See I'm loyal to my readers. And hopefully you'll stay with us until the end, even through all his moody moments.**

**Disclaimer: J.K Rowling made them. But I had 'borrowed' them to use as my puppets. MWAHAHAHA!*sigh* all right. They're still not mire. But the storyline is though! (That reason alone will keep me sleeping soundly tonight.)**

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"Are you trying to be emo now?" Lyra smirked the infamous family smirk, when she spotted me coming out of the bookshelves. Squirming as I could feel her beady little eyes rove over from the top of the aforementioned hairstyle, to the tips of my scuffed dark green converses. That fink, she knows exactly what makes me wince. I hate it when people stare at me. So to stop her friggin glower from burning my face I walked over to them. (So I'm a in a bad mood. I just concussed myself; I think I have a right to be at least cranky. Fine! Very pissy, whatever.)

Oh and Lyra also had a chocolate sundae in one hand and a blueberry cone in the other. The chocolate sundae was seducing me with its sweetness, so who was I to try to resist? But if it weren't for the tactical bait, I wouldn't have come within a 2 mile radius unless my face was heavily concealed. (With magic doi. I'm a guy. I don't do make up.) But seeing as they did come with a lure, I flipped my hair to the side of my face and decided to grin and bear it. Where did my integrity go? It must have fallen off after either of the two crashed I had.

The only reason I found myself trudging towards them was because Ice-cream was cold. Something that could really help my swelling bruise right about now. And I haven't eaten since breakfast. In America.

My usual bright, white blond hair was tossed to one side of my face to cover the bruise on my forehead, and since I haven't had a haircut since my 14th birthday, my hair has grown unnaturally long. It usually just hits the back of my neck, but now it covered the entire left side of my face. So everyone, meet Emo Scorpius.

"Yeah, well the style's pretty popular on the net." I retorted to Ly's comment before, flattening a hand over my forehead. I straightened my back and grabbed my sundae trying to find a way to distract her and my mom from asking me anything about my hair, and it's unnatural style.

I asked them were Dad was and mom said he was still at the inn. I almost choked on the sundae I was inhaling.

Imagine Draco, my dad at the Leaky cauldron downing firewhiskey shots. Wonderful, because everyone wants to see their Good-old-Daddy-o hammered. And he told me to cut back on the drinking, way to set an example dad. _Bad-tempered hypo_, I thought angrily, as I shoveled the last bit of sundae into my mouth. _Hasn't he ever heard about practicing what he preaches? I guess not, because if he did then maybe he wouldn't be getting zonked as we speak. God, I can't wait to get away from him._

As I was thinking murder in my thoughts I looked down to see my sundae cup empty.

Woah, where did the rest of the ice-cream go? I swear I didn't eat it that fast. Do they serve smaller portions here in Europe than in America? No wonder people are tiny here.

"So where to now?" I asked, clapping my hands in anticipation, smiling brightly through the white curtain that was my hair. I admit, it felt weird, especially after always having it away from my facial features, especially now that it was hiding half of it.

I guess that's why Mom was eyeing me oddly.

"Honestly Scorpius, I know it's the trend these days, but really. This is just ridiculous." My mom extended her hand to swipe my hair back. The fates should shove it. Because apparently losing a girl, walking into a door, and finding out that my dad's getting hammered at the moment, isn't bad enough. They want to add my mom finding out about my bruise into the mix.

"Mom- I'm not 4." I tried squirming aside, but I must have hit my head harder than I thought, because my reflexes sucked. And my mom being the quick woman that she is was able to get me.

My mom gasped as she pulled my bangs back. Damn it! What was I going to say now? 'Hey mom, where did this bruise the size of Jupiter come from you ask? Oh well, you see I got the hots for this girl who was like on the other side of the bookshelf. So then I ran to catch up with her, but I ended up with the door imprinted on my face.' Yeah, as much as it's the truth, even in my head it sounds like bull.

"Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. Who hit you?" My mom demanded. Her hands was holding up my face to the light to inspect the damage (yeah, mom that's exactly what I need. Exposure.), and I didn't need to look into her face to know what her expression is. If the usage of my middle name meant anything.

"I will ask again. What happened?"

Think faster, Scorp, think faster. "Uh, I slammed into something." Think better, Scorp, think better.

"A fist?" Thank you Lyra, for _that._

"No I just wanted to check if you guys were coming, so I went to step outside. But I must have pushed instead of pulling because I slammed into the door. With my head." I added, looking pointedly at Lyra. The kid was going to get me into major trouble if she kept on sprouting her thoughts, so I thought it would be best if I cleared it up with her.

And well, technically, it's not a lie. I mean I did accidentally push instead of pull. I just left out the part of me chasing The Girl out of my story. I mean, come on I do have some pride left.

But I'm not sure if my mom believed me or not. So I peeked out through the corner of my eye (the one that wasn't obscured by my bump. Thanks for the concern.), I glanced up and saw an expression on her face that I couldn't read. This is saying a lot, because my mom is as easy to read as one of Lyra's math books.

After a moment of her –um- shrewdness. She blinked and the look in her eyes was gone.

"Come on then let's get you cleaned up." My mom finally said softly, her voice sounding slightly bemused, but her eyes filled with an expression I could finally read. Concern. That's Astoria Malfoy for you. My loving, dear mum.

She's the only reason I haven't run away from home by the time I hit 13. Oh yeah, and also Lyra, of course. And my room. And limitless cable. And okay, I guess, sometimes my dad. When he isn't being a total stuck-up prissy he-bitch. He's mostly PMS around muggles, and when he is he just gets tight-lipped and gets that constipated face on him. He could have been worse. I mean, he could have been Lucius. Draco's actually a pretty alright man once he's distracted from his prejudices.

Wait, what was I talking about before that whole love-thy-father epiphany? Oh yeah, my mom.

Mommy dearest steered me back into the bookstore, and asked for a first-aid kit. Which they managed to give without any comments about how I should watch who I talk-back to, or that I should try walking around things instead of into them.

Hm no snide comments or sarcastic questions.

England sure is different from the States.

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"Madame Malkins or Twillfit and Tattings?" I heard my mom say when we finally stepped out of Flourish after fixing my face. How I managed to make a bookstore sound like hospital for plastic surgery, is a very amusing puzzle for me.

I had no idea what the hell they were, (they could be prisons by all I knew, and judging by my luck, it most likely is something that nasty.)So I just said the first one that sounded the easiest to pronounce.

"Um, Madame Malkins?" I said, well, actually asked. But yeah I think I got a point over.

Mom nodded and led me and Lyra down the street to a small robe shop. The words 'Madame Malkins Robes for All Occasions' in gold at the front of the shop, while through the window I saw someone being fitted inside.

Contemplating thoughts for a second or two, I came up with a plan.

Okay, I know it's kind of mean to shoo away your mom and baby sister. But the person in the window looked my age, and how embarrassing would it be to be seen with your mommy leading you into a robe store? Majorly, that's the answer to the rhetorical question. Besides, the guy (I'm gonna name everyone I meet in England, who is my age, The Guy or The Girl. Just to avoid my confusion.) looked around my age, so he must be going to Hogarths.

Since I didn't want my non-existent reputation already tarnished, I convinced my mom and Ly to go have some quality girl time and shop around while I got my robes boringly fitted.

My mom gave me a once over and cautiously, with suspicion and puzzlement in her eyes, (I am a walking confusion to my parents. Also known as: A teenager.) and handed me my money pouch, slowly as if she wanted to prolong the moment.

Please just walk into the nearest store. I thought, as she started to stroll with Lyra in tow.

I blew my left cheek in relief. No parting hugs, or hour long lectures, so thankfully no red-faced Scorpius. I couldn't help waving at them as they walked and I almost grinned. Keyword: almost.

I guess, my wave must have switched on the device that mom's have inside them that makes them want to kiss their children, give them advice and clean everything. Because my mom paused, as if she forgot something, and doubled back to fill me in on all the details. Oh how I loathe myself.

"Don't spend it all at once, and I'm coming back in about 2 hours to check on you. I want to see your first school robe." She gushed tenderly, kissing me on the cheek. Mortification. Humiliation. Suicide-Contemplation.

She rambled on at the top speed that only the residents of Brooklyn would understand. The usual advice, don't talk to strangers, keep your head down, don't pick fights, tuck in your shirt, shine your shoes, straighten your hair, floss. You know, same old, same old, yadda yadda yadda. After which I had developed a tomato skin, to replace my usually tanned face (courtesy of years developing my skill in Quadpot.) She finally stopped. Thank Merlin.

God, you'd think that I never stepped into the world with all her mollycoddling. But this, I had to admit, was really, odd. I mean, there was more 'guidance' than usual. Hell, there are more words than usual. Normally, she wasn't this...naggy. It must be something about the first Hogwerth robe. Man, so far, England is weird. Thus it probably makes everyone else weird too.

When I was pretty sure that my mom had went into the shop for real this time, I quickly fixed myself up so I resembled the old Scorp. The one with messy blond hair, untucked dark blue MAHS, New York Quadpot Team Jersey, rolled-hem jeans, and dark green converses untied, and slipped my wand into my front pocket. Checking my reflection in a shop window, I felt just a little better.

No not because I'm some humanga ego-sized, hot teenager, that winks at his reflection because he believes he looks good in anything. Not that I don't think and do that of course (hey I need to have some self-confidence, I'm only human.). I mean, I know that I didn't get all my girlfriends by showing them my glowing personality, or anything of that sort. I'm not that nice.

But being dressed like how I did (and majority of the youth) back in NYC made me feel like at least a part of my home country was still with me. I felt my confidence go down a few notched, as I felt the pang that most shrinks (don't ask) would call home-sickness.

Man, I'm so missing New York. With all the yellow taxis, bright building lights, and one layered city bus I was beginning to feel the longing attack me, full force. I tried to blink back (I have to embarrassingly admit.) tears that were stinging my eyes, as I thought longingly of The Double WW, and the hustle and bustle of Times Square.

_Don't be such a baby. Get in that store and socialize until you shrivel up and feel all your popularity drained out of you. Or just suck it up, Gaylord._ My mind thought fiercely. If it was anyone else, I'd tell them to shove it. But seeing it was myself speaking…well I can't exactly punch myself can I? Yes, I know my mind is a dick. In more ways than one.

Erasing my thoughts, and scrubbing my hand across my face, to check for any-um- leakage. I found none, and walked into the store. My almost runny nose held slightly in the air.

God, I'm such a pussy.

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The door bell rang noisily as I stepped into the threshold, alerting the quiet store of the invasion, I couldn't help but grimace.

Yeah I know what you guys must be thinking "wait, but you just said you were like pro-riot." Shouldn't loud noises and Scorpius be well acquainted by now? Don't worry, we most definitely are. Growing up in the US. Loud sounds have become a natural occurance in my daily life. So yeah, just to get the point clearer. Scorpius and Loudness do mix.

However, Scorpius and the Spotlight? Yeah, not so much. Having an attention-seeking baby sister made sure of that.

I've always hated being self-conscious and being in the centre of the attention. Is that an oxymoron? Dunno, passing over! Anyway, it just felt awkward, as if people were just staring at me waiting for me to mess up. I never knew why I had this feeling; maybe it's some natural born phobia maybe not. Bottomline is that put me in front of a mike, stage, crowd, and if I know what's going on, I will possibly puke.

I know another commodity. Party boy. Likes to secretly read books. Has a deep fear of public speaking. Well, there are some exceptions. Like I'm okay with doing stuff in a group like performing a skit with my Spanish class, or more than often when I'm high I don't really pay attention to where people are looking and tend to publicly (and willingly) make a fool out of myself. But that's all when I have something to hide behind. An excuse, as you can call it.

But seeing as I didn't have anything to hide behind (except my hair.) now, I felt my face instantly heat up as the people's stares came and silence filled the store. Did I have something on my face? Why was everyone still staring at me.

I checked to see if my bruise was peeking, but I had tucked my hair to the side. So now I was neither emo nor panda-faced. So why were the shop ladies and the customers still staring at me kind of accusingly as if I had broken up their little tea party?

Still basking in confusion, I walked over to the nearest shop witch sitting behind the reception table.

"Um, I'm Scorpius. I'm here to um get my robes fitted?" I stuttered.

The lady snapped out of her little trance at the sound of my voice and asked dazedly, her eyes still slightly wide. "Oh, right. Are you Hogwarts?" when I nodded. She became a whole lot nicer and smiled.

"Good, we have the lot of them right here. There's even one being fitted right now." She waved over to another shoplady. Who scurried over and lead me to the fitting stool. Saying. "Here you are, Mister Scorpius."

I almost snorted when she said Mister. People here are so proper, it funny.

I grinned and said (in a nice jokey way.) "You don't need to call me mister. I'm still 15, ma'am."

Which she replied with a laugh. See I wasn't making it up before. I can be witty and charming at times.

After my comment I noticed that everyone was nicer to me. Well as nice as people who were previously gawking at me can get. That means they stopped staring at me for 5 minutes straight. I do admit, some still glanced in my direction every 15 minutes as if I'd like Avada their ass if they kept their back to me for more than a second. But at least the glares stopped.

As the measuring tape measured me, I heard a familiar voice say from behind me. "America, right?"

Except it sounded like 'America roight?' I turned my head in the direction of the voice and saw that it was The Guy.

Okay, my plan was pretty flawed. I mean, by naming every guy The Guy. I was bound to get some confusion eventually.

So to explain it more thoroughly, it was The Guy. The 'can-you-move' guy. The 'guy with a redheaded mom' guy. The guy with green eyes and black hair. 'God I should be a poet.'

It was the first Guy.

Well hit me with a feather and call me a bint. I might as well have gotten a letter saying "Welcome to Hogwarts, you cocky jerk." I knew my sarcasm would be the end of me one day.

"Hey." I said coolly, feigning nonchalance. Forget poet, I should be an actor. He smiled, hm he does do that a lot, maybe it was just a knee-jerk reaction. Hear a sarcastic comment, grin in return.

"Hey indeed." The Guy grinned, his arms were held away from his sides as pins stuck pieces of black cloth to his black robes. "I think we've met before. I asked you to move and you answered my mum and me in a very different manner. Do you remember?"

"Vaguely." I answered sarcastically. I can't help it sarcastic comments are my refuge. But I needn't worry about his reaction because he kept on grinning, as if a hanger was stuck in his mouth. Odd guy.

"Well you irked my mum a lot when you went past. She wasn't used to being treated like that, but when I asked her if she was okay, she said that that was almost expected coming from the likes of you. Honestly I had no idea what that meant of course. But she said it very meanly, I could tell she was very angry. But it was really unexpected because me mum's actually very sweet. So I was thinking that maybe you and she must've met before. Because it would make a little sense of why she doesn't like you that much, right? So have you?" He said that all so fast, that he could've been mistaken for a Brooklyner, minus the accent.

I stared at The Guy for a good 5 seconds trying to place him. He seemed pretty straightforward and informative. Almost like a writer, except verbal. And he didn't have that I'm-better-than-you aura that a lot of wizards carry around, I hated those especially, overall he was like the kind of guys I was best friends with back in MAHS. In other words, I thought he was friendly and kinda cool, in a blabbering idiot kind of way.

"I can safely say that I never remember meeting your mom in my whole entire life before today." I said mock-seriously.

He shook his head like a dog ridding his fleas. Or some other metaphor that sounds right including dogs and ears. "Eh, Parents. They make no sense at all." The Guy said as pins started sew his robes together.

Tell me about it.

"Tell me about it. They're like a whole 'nother species." I agreed enthusiastically. I was liking his guy every minute. He seemed like a cool dude.

After tirading on the horrors of the parenthood and joking around a bit, I finally decided that I wanted to know this guy. So I took it another step forward. (God, not that. For pete's sake, I am still not gay.)

"So what's your name man?" I said hopping off the stool. He had gotten off a few minutes before I did, but hung around while we conversed.

But apparently it was the wrong thing to ask, because when I asked for his name, he got this cautious look on his face, while his mouth twisted into a grimace. Which was weird, cause I just asked for his name, not like his address and stuff like that. So it was pretty off-putting.

He bit his lip and turned his green eyes to look at the window, looking as if he was wondering whether I should tell his name or not. Geesh, British people. Even the cool ones are pretty anal about the weirdest things. Like names, for example, and yelling. I was gonna have a fieldday trying to get used to stuff here.

Before I could comment on his out of character uptightness, He finally turned to look at me nervously and said in almost a whisper, as if he was dreading the moment he revealed his identity.

"I-it's…Albus."

Hahaha, no wonder he was freaked out about telling me his name. If I had his name I'd be pretty embarrassed of it too. Poor guy, he looked like he was in serious pain as he waited for my reaction.

But I couldn't help snorting as I tried to hold back my full blown laugh. Don't get me wrong, I tried to like not laugh in his face, but come on. Albus? Every guy has his limits. And mine are shorter than everyone else's. Though, I did manage to successfully not suppress my mirth. I mean this Guy looked like he was about to faint with anxiety. I don't think laughing at him right now would do wonders for our barely standing friendship.

But when I snorted, my shoulder's shook up slightly at the force of my snort and I couldn't help say. "That's unfortunate." Oops. Well, I could always make other friends right?

I thought that he was going to either blow up in my face or run away. So imagine my surprise when he barely seemed fazed by my sarcasm and looked at me with wide bright green eyes.

"You don't know who I am?" He looked pretty shocked, and kind of relieved. Okay, what was he expecting? A groupie. I mean, I know Albus is a pretty unique name, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. But come on it's not that famous. I know that the last guy who had the name was like the greatest wizard of all time and stuff, but just because you're named after him doesn't make you great.

"Were you expecting to kneel over and bow to the sound of your name?" I asked curiously, this time I wasn't trying to be rude (it just happens naturally) I was genuinely curious.

Albus looked confused, but still kind of happy. "No I just-never mind." He said quickly. Okaaay, like I said, the English are odd people. To my relief, his hanger mouth was back on his face and he seemed to go back to his usual cheeriness.

After paying for the robes I checked the time and saw that I had 30 minutes to split before my mom made a cameo. Thank Merlin, she didn't decide to 'pop in' just for the heck of it.

We stepped outside of the store when Albus broke off from the conversation that we having, about how pins should be made anti-prickful and what places it happened to strike, and turned to me to ask. "Do you want me to show you around Diagon Alley? Assuming of course that this is your first visit?"

I schooled my features to look as if I was really thinking about it. Hm, on one hand I could have a fussy goose mom dragging me from the Guess Kids store to Daisy's kiddy haircut salon. On the other hand I have a pretty cool dude, even with his strange name phobia, showing me all the hotspots in Diagon alley. What do I choose? What do I choose?

"Sure, Albus I need to get used to this place anyway if I'm gonna be staying here for the next two weeks." I added, thinking that maybe Hogwarts wont be so bad after all.

We walked out of the turret in front of Madame Malkins and blinked when the rays hit our eyes. I guess, we must have been in there for a pretty long time because it took me a while for my eyes to adjust.

I looked behind me, and saw that we were taking the road opposite the direction that my mom went in. Oh well, my mom can live without me for a day or two anyway. I turned my head to look at Albus. He had this funny stride. Like a mix between a lope and a slouch. But now that I saw his face in the bright sunlight, I realized besides the fact that that I had met him before. He did look familiar, just couldn't put my finger on it. He was kind of tall (and this is a lot coming from me. I'm 5'10), maybe an inch or so smaller than me, had untidy jet-black hair that sort of stuck up at the back, and he had almond-shaped bright green eyes.

And he was talking to me. Of course, he would be.

"Ergh. Don't call me Albus. No one does that. Everyone calls me Al." His long nose scrunching at the sound of his name.

"I can see why. Dude, no offense, but you're name is honestly one of the worst names I have ever heard of. Did your parents lose a bet or something?" I said, as we turned the corner and into a street with stalls and hawkers on every slab of concrete.

"I don't think so. They said my name holds a sentimental value. Apparently they just know a lot of wizards with peculiar names." We both stopped at a stall that sold what looked like dragon hide gloves. "Oh right. What's your name, mate?"

Oh crap, I guess, when I heard his name it was so bad that I forgot what mine was for a second. Now that he mentioned it. His name doesn't sound that bad next to mine. Merlin! Why couldn't Dad just name me Tyler or Jesse like a normal person would?

"You know, on second thought. Albus." I bobbed my head from side to side, testing the word on my tongue again. "Your name's a prêt-tee cool name." I stepped to the side of him quickly and tried to lose Al by disappearing into one of the passing crowds. Screw friendship, I thought as I was about halfway through the crowd when Al caught up with me easily, grinning with an eyebrow cocked suspiciously.

Well, what would you expect from a guy with legs longer than his friggin torso. Bambi Boy.

"What's your name?" He inquired brightly, like he was asking if I loved cupcakes as much as he did. We kept on walking alongside each other. And it's not like I could suddenly pull a Sue Storm on him and bolt. It was a one way street. And crowded. I hate England.

"You know, I'm not going to stop. I'm only just going to get more persistent."

Out of all the people in Britain, I had to get a book shover and a nosy name-knower. Sighing in defeat as he asked for my accursed name for the 14th time in a minute (God, does he have like three vocal boxes or tongues or some thing? Because there is no way that guy's speed talking is natural.), I finally stopped at the corner of the inter cross and burst out to a smug looking Albus. (ignoring all the passerbys staring at the two of us. Oh well, they'll probably find out I'm unhinged anyway if I murder Albus for his non-stop word invasion.) "Fine! It's Scorpius, okay?"

I waited 3 seconds for a reaction remotely similar to the hemorrhage I had when he told me his name.

But maybe Brits have more manners than Americans do. Okay fine, more manners than I do. Because he had enough grace to keep a straight face.

For about 3 seconds.

Then Al burst out laughing. The Dick.

"I-I-I ahm, s-so sor-r-ry. But, t-tha-t i-s one o-of the fu-f-funniest things I-I h-have ever heard." He gasped, struggling to get the words out as his eyes began to water. Oh, and he was doubling over. _Don't kick him, don't kick him. _Repeating the mantra over in my head, as I watched him practically wet himself.

"Done yet? Or would you like a hard thump on your back, or any other place. I'm not really caring." I said semi-sourly. But all Al did was laugh harder. But by now, I was beginning to see what he was laughing about. I guess, to a glass half full person (who Albus obviously is.) my name would be a hilarious sound. I mean Scorpius Malfoy. If that didn't make at least a pubescent Briton guy giggle, then I have no idea what would.

Feeling my mouth turn up in a slight smile, I felt the beginning of a volcanic laugh bubbling up. It was like a faucet had turned on, and instead of happiness being drained out of me. All my fears, anger, and frustration came gushing out with all my laughter. Everything I was feeling for the past few days flew out of my mind as I began to laugh.

And before I could stop it, I had my hands on my knees and was laughing as hard as the lunatic beside me. I don't know how to explain it, but the feeling of being that free was like amazing.

And mid-hysteric, that's when it hit me.

"Oh G-god. I-I j-just real-l-lized somefenk." I stuttered, tripping over the words as tears began to slide down my cheeks. Don't judge my incoherentness, I could barely hold stand straight, so talking was like hell.

"Hah-W-what?" Albus managed to gasp out, as he clung to the lamppost for support. Which was quite a feat. Seeing how burgundy his face was. Yeah, I'm not kidding. Not pink. Not red. Burgundy.

Because of that thought, it took me a good 30 seconds to control my suppressed chuckling. Before I unintelligibly wheezed out.

"Y-your na-n-name is Albus."

Except I said it so stupidly (but then, again the comment itself wasn't so smart to begin with.), that for a moment I thought he didn't hear. But that thought quickly went away, as the moment I said my epiphany, Albus fell off the lamppost and started writhing on the floor clutching his stomach.

_I bet on one third of my right foot that Diagon Alleyers walking past are thinking that two patients had definitely escaped from a nearby mental asylum._ I thought.

I chose not to say this out loud though, because intentional or not intentional, I don't think killing your friend with laughter would look good on any permanent record. No matter how new and foreign your are.

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**Wow, this is a very long chapter. Like Great Wall of China long. Hahaha, but I had a great time writing it. I know some people must've been upset with the last chapter, because of how short and unofficial it was. So I decided to make at least one thing official. So yeah, Scorp and Al are friends. More getting-to-know-you time with Scorp and (maybe, still deciding.) another mystery person coming up. Hope you liked it!  
**

**So how was it? Tell me pleesh! I NEED MORE COMMENTS! Just click the review button close by. ****I know it's here somewhere.**** I need to know what your favourite quotes are, who your favourite character is, which character do you want to know about more. Do tell and Dont hold back. Please, please, please, please. I'll get you more Scrose if you guys actually ask, you know. *cheeky grin***

**Oh and also this time. I'm going to be gone for like three-four weeks time. SORRY! But, my exams are getting dangerously close. So just heads up for the next few weeks, I'm not dead and Culture Shock isnt abandoned! It's just taking a break. Like Rachel and Ross. And they got back together, right? So yeah, I too will be reunited with my keyboard in 4 weeks, maximum. Love ya Readers! I'll be bach.**

**~Ms. Impatient and Fatigued**

**(unfortunately, Scorpius and Al are still laughing uncontrollably at there names and cannot comment at this present moment. But, I am sure they send their regards.)**


	6. Weathering a Storm

Hey Guys!

I'm back! So sorry about the break! 4 weeks was torture for me without the familiar feel of the keyboard under my finger. But thankfully, I'm back! Exams are over and I got 2 whole months to catch you guys up on Scorp. Got a whole lot of ideas, and planning and I realized that I'm actually really excited for the whole Hogwarts year. Let's just say it's gonna be very interesting. It's gonna be so fun writing it.

This chapter is where it all starts, so it's not as cheery as the rest of the story, but it explains a lot, well not really it just gives way to alot. Okay no more! I don't want to spoil it. So, sorry about the lack of the usual humor, but it'll start up again in the next few!

Disclaimer: Yeah know the drill. None+sobs= Me

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"One black coffee for the sarcastic, immature teenager. And a latte for me." Al told me as he handed me my steaming mug and sat down. We were currently sitting in a small corner, overlooking the Diagon alleyers as they strolled by with their robes and wands. It was a nice time in the day, I thought as Al and I lounged about. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the smell of carbon emissions in the air. And if you listen real closely, you could almost hear the cars drivers swearing angrily at each other.

Oh wait, for a second there I thought I was back home. Whoops, must've been my imagination. London has no angry drivers, they have no shouting pedestrians or taxis cutting of cars in different lanes. All they have are their freaky polite cab drivers, puny, little clown, carnie motorcycle things (mopeds: which are like the epitome of queer.) and little neat and tidy, wrong left lanes. Silly me.

Yeah, my tude's back. I guess, all those happy chemicals that get pumped into your brain when one laughs must have worn off. Because although I'm not as pissy as I was before I met Al, I'm still the cynical average 15 year old me. But maybe a little brighter I guess. Finding a good friend on the streets of London does that to a person. Or to me anyway. At least the smile on my face isn't forced anymore! So that's a plus. Ignore me, I ramble.

I looked up at this question and noticed once again that Al was nursing the sissy latte of his. I got coffee. (Black, like my soul) proving that I am the manlier person among the two of us. Lattes are for gays and the Europeans. So that must be like two out of two for Al. (ha-ha, Just Kidding. I'm in a good mood, remember?)

We were sitting at an outside table in Porter's Pizza Eatery, talking about random things. Like how fine the weather is, girls, how the universe is like really black, girls, muggles and their coolness, girls, food, females, video games and girls. You know the same things all pubescent wizard boy acquaintances born after 1800s talk about. Well not all the same old things. I don't think they invented video games until like 1950s. But we were still having a grand old time all the same. (God. Did I really just say that? Must be something I ate. Stay away from English produce, Scorp.)

After we had broken a rib, burst a lung and a few blood vessels from our frenzied laughter, we both decided that our bodies needed to refuel from such vigorous workout and Al led me to an eating place right around the corner, that he dubbed 'The place with Best Pepperoni Special in All of the Wizarding World.' I snorted at this good naturedly, because I knew, from personal experience, that it was not only hard to top Da Nico in Little Italy, it was down right impossible.

But this place was a definite second, because I finished off half of the extra-large special all by myself and I was still hungry. It was that good. Or maybe that could be the case of quantity, because the XL in Europe was like an L or M in NY. I mean, I realized when I was halfway through my fourth slice and Al was like nibbling on his second. (Seriously, nibbling, like a girl. Brits and their small foods.) I know I eat fast, but I'm not a glutton or anything. Some foods just don't fully fit in mouth.

And besides, most girls say it's endearing. _That is until they break up with you because they came to the conclusion that you should never eat in front o f them. _My conscience said. _**Yeah, well it was like 10 out of 15 times.**_I thought back defensively. Yeah, my conscience is worse than my Dad, because at least I can like tune the man out. But Jimminy cricket here never just zips it.

_That's because you never stop acting like an incompetent tween. _

_**I do too.**_

_Do not. _

_**Do too.**_

Am I having an argument inside my head? Woah, and I thought English people crazy. Well, it turns out it's British, mental patients, Hitler, Voldemort, then Me. The only time I'll ever be above Voldie. (! Not like that!)

Half of my share of pizza was gone, when Al had set down his 3 rd slice for a break. Yeah, he's on his what? His 2nd slice and already taking breaks. I'm halfway through, and not even thinking of stopping. But then again it is me. The Scorpius who won 3 pie eating contests in the county fair. The Scorpius that finished off half a buffet in 2 hours. The- yeah, you get the picture.

I started to panic when I realized realized that I really might starve in Hogwarts. I mean, who knows how much they serve there? It's probably like 2 plates per person. I can't survive on two plates. It's physically impossible. Trust me, I tried. Maybe I could ask Mom and Dad to like send me a burger or some Chinese take out three times a day. How long can Owl Service take anyway? And they can probably charm the food to like not expire. I mean that is why God invented magic. To feed the starving.

Me and Albus had gotten to know each other in between mouthfuls of pizza and I found out that Al was actually an pretty decent guy. He wasn't snotty or stuck-up like most of the English foreign exchange students we had at MAHS, and he definitely didn't flinch when I made grammatical errors (okay, maybe he probably did a little, but at least he didn't rub it in my face.) Al was laid-back, witty in a polite way, (I guess, it was all those etiquette manners they brainwash into your brain in English Schools.) thoughtful, grinned at everything and had a really hilarious sense of humor.

And Al and me had a lot of stuff in common. I mean, He was 15, I was 15. He had a sense of humor, I had a sense of humor. He had eyes, I had eyes.

Well, alright. We didn't have that many stuff in common. Actually, if anyone saw us from afar the picture of yin and yang would come up in their brain. I was yang with my white, blond hair and grey eyes. While Al was the yin, all jet-black hair and green eyes. And it worked out in our personalities too. I'm pretty straight forward, while Al likes to takes things easy. Al gives everyone a smile, I give everyone a sarcastic comment. But we both level each other out. We both connected. In a non-homosexual way. 

Plus, he wasn't like how Mom and Dad's friends sons and daughters from Europe, all smug and correcting grammery. Those dweebs really bug the hell out of me..

"So where are you from in the U.S?" Al asked, bushing off the crumbs on his mouth with a napkin and picking up his drink. I had done a similar action before, but instead of a napkin, I used the back of my hand and took a swig from my mug. Oh, the difference between our cultures.

"I'm from New York." I answered, taking a huge bite out of my 6th slice of pizza pie. I think I saw Al's eyes widen half an inch in awe at my confession. Which made my suspicion, that he didn't own a t.v, resurface. I know that New York is the best city there is, but come on, there's no need to pop an eye over us. Hasn't he ever seen a t.v or even an American tourist before? They're not accurate, but they are part of us. And they're not that hard to spot, just look for the loud, shorts-wearing, backpack carrying, out-dated map holding red-neck. We're like sore thumbs in a sea of prim and proper stuck out pinkies.

"No need to pop an eye. We're not that famous."I said to Al smiling slightly. When I looked up from my drink 2 seconds later to see him still staring at me. Still no response from the green eyed zombie so I shifted uncomfortably. Okay, even though he's like the closest thing I have to a best friend in England, he's starting to creep me out. His staring that is. Didn't I mention that? Oh wait, whoops, not to him. So I filled him in on my no-staring regulation.

Al shook his head and grinned at me embarrassedly. He has a lot of those. Grins, I mean. "Sorry, I just never really traveled a lot outside of Europe. And I want to go over the pond next summer, and New York was one of my first stops. So it's really wonderful to meet someone from there." He said quickly. Al does that a lot too. Like whenever he says a word, you can bet it's probably accompanied by a sentence or two.

"What about you?" I said smoothly changing topics fast.

"What about me?" Al asked, brushing a few crumbs from his mouth. He looked at me confusedly. Maybe I didn't change topics as smoothly as I thought I did.

"Where do you come from, man?" I said slowly and a bit too clearly that if my 'rents were here, they'd smack me on the head for my patronizing tone.

Al looked at me bemusedly, and seemed to ponder the question. "You see Scorp, when a man and woman love each other. They-."

"Okay, dude, I had to go through an hour of this, every week for Health Ed, I pretty sure where everything goes." I cut him off, chuckling while my hand was raised up in mock-surrender. Our table erupting in chuckles loud enough to make table 3 and 4 glare over at us.

See what I mean, the guy was a nice riot.

"I'm just pulling your leg."

Until he used queer British phrases like that.

There must have been something in my expression of utter bewilderment when he said that because his smile grew bigger until he had a full on Cheshire grin on his face. "It means that I'm just trying to get a laugh out of you." He explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Yeah, because it's that easy. Thank you sarcasm, I needed you.

"Don't worry. I'm still laughing at people who actually use that sentence here."

Al sniggered at me, as if nothing can faze that guy. And it's true; Al's an automatic laugh machine. In comes a comment, out comes a giggle. He's cool like that.

"I live in London, in Godric's Hollow." He said after we both stopped chuckling. Nice name, Was it like a haunted house or something, because it definitely sounds like one.

A few moments passed of guy ranting and then, I don't know who started it (okay. It was probably me and my previous sentence. But he was 'pulling my leg') but before I knew it we were debating over which place was better, London or England.

"No way, dude. The NYC is way better than London. London has too many old places. It smells like dust and old people." I said shaking my head, when he said that New York sounded too busy.

"I beg your pardon, London has character and history. You can't win next to history."

"Al, if I wanted some history, I'd get a book."

"Well, good. At least now, I know you can read one."

We bantered like this for a few more minutes, both making fun of each other's comebacks and messing around. Eventually, we became more into the argument and started making lists of what each country had.

"Yes well, what does New York have? Some tall building, Baserketball, cadillacs. And those lousy Yankees." He said the last word as if it tasted sour, his face contorting funnily. Oh no he didn't.

"You did not just insult the New York Yankees." I said, faking a scandalized look. My jaw was open and my eyes held an unspoken threat. In other words, I was basically giving off the 'take-that-back-or-else' vibe all while keeping a straight-face. It was hard though, I could feel my face muscles straining to keep down a grin or a laugh. I probably had a vein throbbing on my temple.

"So what if I did? What are you going to do, Yank?" He said mockingly, the guy was really asking for it. His eyes twinkling with laughter. Yeah, twinkling. I'm still straight by the way.

Then I got it. Yeah I know it's below the belt, but come on! He called the NBA baskerketball! Who doesn't know basketball?

"Oh, yeah. Well, Quidditch is for pussies." I dropped the bomb, smirking victoriously. See if there is one thing The Brit Wizards are so crazy about, it's Quidditch. Never insult Quidditch in front of a English person unless you still want to keep you-um-appendages. The worst thing they'd do to you if you insulted their sport is kick you. I learned this when I was 5 and Dad was trying to get me to ride a broom, while I just wanted to play Quadpot. I insulted the game and that was the reddest shade I saw on my dad's face, like ever.

Albus eyes were as round as galleons, and his mouth was twice as big as it normally was.

"Take. That. Back." He whispered menacingly. Ha! Nice try, Al. But I totally caught the sides of your mouth twitching when you said the words.

"Nope."

"Take it back."

"No way. You insulted the Yankees. And Quidditch is totally overrated."

"If the people from Hogwarts heard you, you'd be massacred right now." Al said solemnly. He must have decided to stop with the arguing, because, well, I guess that's the kind of person he is. Al was pretty cool, a little on the geeky side sure, and maybe kinda stoner-ish sometimes, but other than that, he was a good guy. And the ability to burp the alphabet made up for his lack of knowledge in modern day music. Most of the time. And he w-

Hold up. What did he say again?

That sentence got to me. Maybe my luck had changed and someone cool actually studied in Hogwarts. "Wait. Freeze, rewind, and repeat. You go to Hogwarts?" Al's eyebrow's were raised in a amusement at my sentence. I guess, Brit's aren't used to being treated as VCRs. I crossed my fingers (mentally of course. It's way too girly to actually do it.)waiting for his answer.

"Of course."

Yes! The world has forgiven me for all my past malicious activities! The fates are wonderful!

"Oh My God! Dude, that's awesome! I'm transferring there this year!" I blurted out, unable to contain myself. I was practically bouncing in my seat. The girl side of me (That I got from Lyra and my mom.) finally tapping into my brain.

Hogwarts wouldn't be as bad with Al there. I might even have fun, with a few parties, some girls, a couple of boxes of drinks and the year will be over in a flash then I'll finally be back home.

"Are you serious? Scorp, that's amazing!" Al practically yelled out (half the onlookers passing by were staring at us as if we were crazy. Maybe they recognized us from our episode on the sidewalk.), his green eyes were wider than I've ever seen them and his jaw was slack in what looked like a permanent open-mouthed smile. Well, more permanent for a guy who smiles 24/7.

We were both practically jumping down on our seats, man-hugging each other from opposite ends of the table.

_If anyone squinted at you right now, I bet they'd mistake you for girls. _My dignity said. That made me stop. Luckily Al stopped at the same time, and asked me, thus saving me the rudeness of shoving him away.

"Are you allowed to do that though? Transfer from one school to Hogwarts in the middle of the course? " Scratching his head. His eyebrows were scrunched together while he pondered this apparent complexity. Huh. I never really thought of that.

"I think so, I took a test and I'm already in." I shrugged. It's true! I mean, I didn't get full marks. And well, okay, I guess I barely passed through, but at least I didn't cheat and I completed it **and** I got in. So you see, I'm not a complete dunce.

I couldn't help wince at the memory of my near fail.

But I have to face it. O.W.L courses are really different from the S.W.A.P.C (For those who have no clue what that is. It stands for Serious Wizarding Aptitude Preparation course. It's like the course that we Americans follow by. And although it takes longer to complete, at least it doesn't spell out a friggin animal.) We start prep classes at 15, so if I stayed at MAHS, I would have started this year, and we take the final exams at 17 and/ or 18. So my 'rents would've had to endure me for an extra year than they were used to. No wonder they sent me away.

"This is brilliant! We're going to have one ace year!" He exclaimed.

"Um, I hope so." Okay, I have got to get down with this British lingo. They'll probably think I'm retarded or beat me up if I keep on asking "hey. Can you say again, except like normally." Even if I might stay like 2 years I still want to fit in. I need a mentor, someone who can teach me what's hot and what's not in Hogwarts. I need help.

"Al, you gotta like tutor me in the ways of the British Hogwartian." I said, breaking off Al in mid-sentence of whatever exclamation he was making. As if mine was any worse. I couldn't blame him for looking at me as if I had grown 3 heads, minus complete disgust. His was only half there, disgust I mean.

Al being his unfazed self, took it all in stride, grinned and nodded. "er, alright. But just one thing."

I indicated him to go on with the jut of my chin.

"Quidditch is the best sport ever."

This was going to be a hard year. Gosh, Brit's and their stupid sports. Well, I'm not that better either. But at least I know when to retreat. Or lie in my case.

"You're absolutely right. Quidditch is the best sport ever." I know, I'm lying through my teeth, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Not that I haven't not lied before but whatever. I just need to get the gist of Hogwarts before I wind up as new meat in the hyena pack. "Merlin! Now, will you tell me about Hogwarts?"

"Alright. Alright. I'll teach you it later. No need to get your knickers twisted." That is the second time I have heard that today. I think I liked it better coming from The Redhead. She made it sound hot. Albus makes it sound…disturbing. In a funny way, of course.

"So wanna meet up tomorrow and hang out and stuff. I've got to head back before the coyotes realize I'm missing." I said, checking my watch. I was supposed to meet my mom 3 hours ago. Might as well go order a coffin while I'm at it. No way was mom gonna let me off this easy. I could almost imagine her 'no-note! No-phone-call! I-was-worried-sick' monologue. Don't worry mom, you're not the only one who's sick of it.

"Oh I can't, but how about the day after that? Are you staying at Leaky?" I nodded wordlessly, trying to remember if I had anything that day. Al asked "You'll still be here?" Duh. I nodded again, and at which Al grinned at our plans.

I paid (after many objections from Al.) and we both went out into the street.

"I might be here tomorrow though, I'll see if I can escap-I mean separate from my family for a bit if I'm not too busy. Are you free?" Al looked at me, as if still asking for permission to hang out. Geesh, English peeps have too much manners.

"Yeah, wanna meet by Flourish? I need to get the new books anyway."

"Yeah, alright. So…." Al trailed off and looking down at his white sneakers. They were muddy and grass stained.

Now it came to the goodbye part. In other words, the awkward part. Great.

"Be seeing you man." I held out an arm, with the hand open-palmed and tried to make it less…awkward. Might as well say goodbye in the only way I know possible.

We slapped hands, and I pulled him in for a man-hug/slap on the back. When I broke apart, I realized that it wasn't as uncomfortable as most goodbyes I had with new people. It was almost as if it came natural, being his friend. I knew from that moment that we were going to be really close friends.

"See you, mate." Al smiled, and walked off waving before turning the corner.

The guy could be my best friends here. And I didn't even know his last name.

Um, déjà vu much?

Oh well, at least I know his first name.

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I found my mom (I guess, Ly went back to the manor.) at my room in Leaky (Either the family resemblance is beyond striking, or the inn has a pretty sucky security system. I am so definitely hiding my stuff under my clothes, or sleeping with them.), sipping a drink while at the same time barking into her phone in between mouthfuls, of what looked like something strong. (I knew my drinking was hereditary.) "-had better have a reason for disappearing Scorpius Malfoy! I will murder you! How dare you leave without so much as a phone call or even a text mess-." She broke off mid-sentence and pressed a button on her phone again then reattached it to her ear.

"Your voicemail cut me off again. Honestly, Scorpius pick up your bloody phone! Your father and I gave it to you for a reason." My mom rambled, on while tapping her foot against the hard wood floor. Man, tonight was going to be really, really long. Will this day ever end?

Probably, right after I get to listen to my mom wig out even when she's not there. Splendid stuff.

Deciding that I better go face my doom before my phone is overrun with my mom's voice messages and eventually blows a circuit, I stepped out of the shadows to battle my mother's wrath. Wish me luck.

"Hey mom. How's it going?" I tried non-chalance, and slipped into the seat opposite to her.

I had a second of silence before she blew up.

It's safe to say I was cowering, but hey, you would be too if you were in my position.

Astoria's face was contorted as she yelled her head off at me, and it looked as if she wanted to slap me in the face.

"Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy! Where the hell have you been! I've been worried sick, I tell you, sick! No note! No message! Not even bothering to text message your own mother to say that you're alive! You could have been killed or kidnapped! I am so angry at you! You could have called me or your father! Or even Lyra! But did that you even think of that? No you didn't! Did you even care? How could you Scorpius? Do you know what kind of people are out there? Something bad could have happened to you! And then how would we have helped you, if you wouldn't even pick up your bloody phone!" She paused, in the middle of her speech to take a breather, and then dove straight back in.

Lovely woman she is. I tuned out for a bit, while looking down to avoid my mother's eyes. (And reduce the amount of sound contact to my ears. I swear I'm gonna be half deaf after this. If not fully temporarily.)

Yeah, you know how trains pick up speed after a while of steaming up? It's the same my mom. Once she's on a roll, it's suicide to stop her or interrupt her. And what blows, is that I didn't even get the chance to head her off at the beginning. So I'm going to have severely maimed eardrums after this.

"Scorpius Malfoy ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME! How could you do this to your father and me? Something bad could've happened to you! You're irresponsibility is the reason why you were kicked out and had to move you in the first place! We are in a whole other country were everything different for you! I told your father, that you were too young to go here by yourself, too immature, too irrespo-."

I forgot about my whole non-deathwish notion and interrupted my mum mid-rant. "Wait, where is, Dad?" I noticed that the nearing bald, blond man was nowhere in sight.

That's when I saw the look on her face. The guilt and shame said it all.

So that's where he is. At the Malfoy Manor. Wasted.

What can I say? I just lost it. Everything that I felt for the past days came rushing out in retaliation to her words. It came out of me, a torrent of rage and words. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

"SO WHAT IF I BROKE OUT OF YOUR LEASH FOR LIKE 20 MINUTES! SO WHAT IF I'VE BEEN HAVING THE BEST TIME SINCE I'VE STEPPED INTO THIS GOD FORSAKEN COUNTRY! SO WHAT IF I'VE BEEN TRYING TO GET LESS FREAKED OUT OF MIND ABOUT GOING TO HOGWARTS! SO WHAT! I ONLY TRIED MAKING MY STAY HERE MORE BAREABLE! WHICH IS THE LEAST I CAN FOR YOU! YOU SAY THAT YOU WERE WORRIED, AND ANGRY AND ANXIOUS! YEAH WELL, I'M GONNA BE MOVING HERE SO HOW DO YOU THINK THAT MAKES ME FEEL, HUH? YOU TOOK ME AWAY FROM MY FRIENDS, MY SCHOOL, MY ENTIRE LIFE FOR THE PAST 15 YEARS! AND YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S PISSED OFF!"

If she had been shouting minutes before, what I did shook the friggin planet. My mom just stared at me in shock. Weeks and weeks of frustration and confusion poured out into one rather beautiful heartfelt speech. I don't think the muggles in China heard me. But luckily for them, I was only getting started.

"YOU AND HIM DON'T CARE AT ME AT ALL, DO YOU? YEAH, IT MUST HAVE BEEN A REAL CHORE WAITING AROUND FOR ME! OH WAIT, MAYBE I SHOULD SAY THAT LINE TO DAD SINCE HE'S THE ONE HITTING THE BOTTLE RIGHT NOW! HE COULD AT LEAST FOLLOW WHAT HIS OWN ADVICE, ESPECIALLY SINCE THE REASON WHY I'M EVEN SENT HERE WAS BECAUSE OF WHAT HE'S DOING RIGHT NOW! THE WEAK, FILTHY, OLD HYPOCRITE! HE FORCED MY LIFE TO CHANGE AND HE ISNT EVEN STAYING SOBER LONG ENOUGH TO SEE IT! "

I was fuming and I could feel my slightly tan face bright red and flushing. I felt raw, and vulnerable seeing my feelings all laid that for my mom to see. I could see what the guy who said 'drunken words, are sober thoughts' meant. Because I was drunk alright. I was drunk on my anger. Vaguely aware that my hands were shaking, I took a deep breathe and released it, steadying the animal hopping within my chest. Like a bunny was running around were my heart should have been. (I'll regret my choice of words later.)

My mom's eyes were bright red and threatening to overspill, when she lifted her gaze to mine, I felt the urge to look away from all the hurt. But being the stubborn guy that I am, my eyes stayed glued to hers. Steel grey met swimming turquoise.

"Scorpius, you have no idea how much that had really hurt. We've been through so much for you. Your father and I have tried everything for you to be happy, and I'm sorry if sometimes you weren't. There are so many things I need to tell you. But right now I'm just too disappointed with what you said. With you."

It was like someone poured a bucket of ice down my back, as I saw the tears and revulsion on my mom's eyes. She had never looked at me like that in my whole entire life as if- as if I was dirt. And let me tell you, it's not the look one craves from a mother.

Without even looking at me, she exited the room and after closing the door I heard a

loud crack as she disapparated. Not, that is, before I heard her sob.

After a few seconds, as realization smacked me in the forehead, I crash landed on my bed and pulled the covers over my eyes that were threatening to spill.

I made my mom cry. It made me feel like the smallest organism in the world.

And even though I managed to squeeze my feelings into one bellowed monologue, truthfully, it didn't make me feel any better, not one bit.

If anything, it made me so much feel worse.

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Images. Images flashed through my brain either eerily prophetic or just downright randomly good guesses. While voices rang clearly in my head, a little too loudly, they throbbed as if I was hung over.

"_YEAH, IT MUST HAVE BEEN A REAL CHORE WAITING AROUND FOR ME! OH WAIT, MAYBE I SHOULD SAY THAT LINE TO DAD SINCE HE'S THE ONE HITTING THE BOTTLE RIGHT NOW! _

"_Did you even care? How could you Scorpius? Do you know what kind of people are out there? Something bad could have happened to you!"_

"_And from our rival Quadpot team, all the way from Merlin Ambrosius high school, New York, give it up for The Merlin Lions!: Garwinkle, Scroggs, Weiler, Tellwilliger, Putnam, Stanstonberg, Rooterfly, Wittgenstein, Davidson, Quakenboss,and Malfoy!_

"_Mister Malfoy! That is the 3rd time you fell asleep in my class this week. To the the Principal's office!"_

_HE COULD AT LEAST FOLLOW WHAT HIS OWN ADVICE, ESPECIALLY SINCE THE REASON WHY I'M EVEN SENT HERE WAS BECAUSE OF WHAT HE'S DOING RIGHT NOW!_

"_Come on son, stand up already we don't have all day." My Dad said half-good naturedly, half really annoyed, when he saw me staring. _

_Sorry I'm such a disappointment._

"_Mom, why does dad never talk about his school days?"Lyra asked curiously. My mom turned away and ignored the question.._

"_Dude! Stop it! Stop! Jase! Put it Down! Don't do it! That's enough!"_

"_So Ginny was here with her son and daughter. It doesn't mean you have to make such a fuss about it."_

"_I-It's Albus.""That's unfortunate."_

"_Alright, Hu. I'm coming already." Blue eyes flashing beautifully._

"_You're irresponsibility is the reason why you were kicked out and had to move you in the first place."_

_THE FILTHY OLD HYPOCRITE! HE FORCED MY LIFE TO CHANGE AND HE ISNT EVEN STAYING SOBER LONG ENOUGH TO SEE IT! "_

"_I'm so disappointed with what you said."_

"_With you."_

"_Scorpius!"_

I jerked awake to the sound of thunder crashing, I was breathing heavily. It must have started raining while I was asleep because the storm was in maximum power, and I could hear the slaps of water against my window. But the weather wasn't what was bothering me.

My head was haunted by the voices shouting in my head from the previous visions. My tongue felt carpety, and my eyes felt heavy and itchy. I felt like crap. And I bet I didn't look too hot either.

God, what time was it? It felt like 12 in the morning. Glancing at the clock on my bedside table, I snorted.

Of course, it wasn't 12.

It was 3. In the morning. Great. 13 more hours until I can even think of happy thoughts.

Until then, allow me to drown in my self-loathing and guilt. Or at least just dump it on my head, God knows I deserve it. My mom's words replayed over and over again like those muggle devices, we learned in M.S classes back in MAHS. And everytime it still pounded at me, blow after blow. It hurt. A lot.

I guess, my conscience's ugly head didn't want to look away, because the scenes in my head wouldn't go away no matter how hard I tried to forget. Haunting memories that I just wanted to forget. I hadn't thought about Jason and the incident in a while. But the sting was still there. And then there was the replay of last night. The noise from the rain wasn't lessening my insomnia either.

You'd think I'd get used to it by now. But whenever the scene last night came up in my head, I couldn't help but flinch. Damn, did I really just say all that last night? It's a wonder my mom didn't like hit me or anything with all the stuff I said. Actually, more like yelled.

Walking over to the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face feeling the water trickle down my neck. My own stubborn thoughts and memories still in my head. Man, whoever said My thoughts are who I am (or something equally phrased to that.) knew what he was talking about. I am stubborn, therefore my thoughts are too. Ugh, I didnt want to dwell on deep thoughts. It was the wee hours of the morning and I felt like I'd been running in my sleep. Yeah, running away from my thoughts that is. Merlin, I'd kill for a pensive right now.

_I'm disappointed._

_Sorry I'm such a disappointment._

"Shut up." I snapped at myself, hunched over the sink the sink, and staring at my face in the mirror to try and focus on anything, anything to make me stop hearing the voices

I looked like how I felt. So in other words, I looked like crap.

Well actually, as crappy as a pampered and self-centered guy at 15 can get.

My eyes were red-rimmed, and the shadows under it were definitely prominent, and stood out against my faintly green tinged, pale skin. There was a dust of blond hair on my jaw. My nose was red, and my lips chapped and almost white. Oh, and my hair could have taken on Eintsein's.

Yeah, that happens a lot in the morning. Bed hair for me is almost unavoidable. What a curse.

After making sure that my thoughts didn't have any trace of the night before, I concluded that it was safe to think again. Not that I wasn't thinking before, but you get the picture.

Slinking back into my room, I wiped my face on the hem of my shirt and groped on the walls for a switch to turn on the lights.

My hand collided with solid wood.

What the heck?

Squinting in the darkness, I tried to find any form of light control on the wall. But to my horror, there was none. God, I thought England was like a developed country already. Maybe the wizarding world here hasn't fully caught up with the technological advances of man. If I have to light candles everywhere in Hogwarts, I will stab myself.

Okay this was totally a WTF moment. My face was screwed up concentration as I began tentatively moving my arms and limbs up and down on the wall refusing to give up and admit that there is no form of light in 5 feet radius. I bet I looked like a total freak, feeling up the wall. It was practically second base. Well, I wasn't exactly thinking normal polite things either.

This is exactly what I need. I thought, as I blindly began walking in the general direction of the bed. After a few steps, I felt confident about my path and walked faster.

_Wrong move, dimwit._

My conscience thought as I slammed straight into what I assume is the wall. Lovely. I rubbed my aching parts and turned around, this time my arms where positioned up and horizontal, palm first and 90 degrees away from my body.

**I was wondering when you'd show up. I was starting to feel peaceful. **

Thankfully, I was too busy trying to maneuver myself through the dark, that I didn't hear any reply. Taking a few steps, my fingers banged into the bedpost and I winced at the brutal contact. I guess, I won't be manually picking up stuff for a while.

Figuring out that the bed was like an inch away, I walked forward in three big steps.

Then I rammed into the side table. Luckily, it was a short piece of furniture so my already battered torso was unaffected. Unluckily, it was a short piece of furniture, so my um-manly appendages were apple bruised. Figures.

Swearing every word in my colorful swearword dictionary, I used one hand to clutch my downward region in pain, and used my other one to check the bed more anything that could hurt me when I bounced on. Like a shotgun or a shuriken. The fates could be that kind.

Thank Merlin, there was nothing so I plopped down slowly as to not aggravate my painful appendages and snuggled in. Yes, only in the deepest hours of night will you ever catch Scorpius snuggling.

I stared up at the pitch black darkness, and tried to remember if there were any lamps used before, when my mom was here.

There was light from a few oil lamps (no kidding, like 1850's oil lamps.) and a fireplace. I concluded seriously, trying to only focus on that fact and not on the events during.

But failing miserably, I reluctantly succumbed to the thoughts in my mind, and was overcome with the wave of guilt, indignation, regret and shame.

I realized that most of my words were uncalled for. My Dad never really got drunk in a real long time. The only time I remember seeing him drunk was when I was 3, it was the year after moving to America, and my Dad hit the bottle a lot back in the first few days. He would never hit me or my mom or shout or thrash around, but more like fall into a alcohol induced stupor, mumbling a few incoherent words like weasel, or hairy. It was actually kinda funny once I think about it.

Well more like thinking about those two words. Combined.

But I never actually remember seeing my Dad drunk, not at family Christmases, not even at oldie get togethers either. He would just wave alcohol away good naturedly. Yeah, dad does that nature a whole lot.

I guess, I was being unfair to him. He just began his drinking binge when we had arrived in England. Maybe he doesn't like it here, something we share in common. But I just wish I knew why. I mean, I don't like it here because I had to leave everything, and go here. So I bet if I was going anywhere else like Canada, I bet I'd have the same irrational aversion that I have for England.

But why is Dad so… anti-here? But then again I wouldn't call drinking in one country an anti-ism (I'm just so creative). But something in this place is definitely making Dad jumpy and tense enough to drink.

What is it in this place that made Dad so weird? Didn't he grow up in England? I mean doesn't he miss it or like it at all. Questions started building up in my mind, as I stared at the pitch black darkness above me.

Although my Dad never outwardly showed any negativity to his country, I don't remember him visiting England. Like ever.

Realization mentally smacked me (because the gods thought that I need a good ass whooping, physically and mentally.), when I tried to think back to anytime in my life growing up that Dad had ever gone back to England. I came up empty.

It was always my grandparents visiting us on Christmas and Thanksgiving. We were always traveling to different states, Asia, Africa, and South America. My parents were travel fanatics, but strangely enough, not to Europe. Not even to Morocco. Which is mega weird seeing as they grew up there. (Europe, not Morocco.) And for some queer reason, they didn't even allow me to go on the oversea trip to Spain for my F.L class. Why haven't I noticed this before? Like every time a class trip came up. My parents would declare us traveling to Hawaii or Bali. I mean, it'll be a coincidence if it happened like once or twice, but all the trips in 3 years? I've been around the world but the closest place I've been to England was Alaska. What's the deal? I guess, I never really gave Europe much thought, because we were always going to other places. Almost like it was deliberate. Hm.

I delved deeper into the subject and tried to mentally trace back my heritage.

My mom was half-french (I never really learned the language though, opting for Spanish as my second language for school.) and half English. And my Dad was like a Scots/English. And from what I heard, they both went to the same school in Britain. So how come me and Ly had never stepped so much as a foot in England? Something fishy was going on.

I guess I never questioned our lack of nationality loyalty, because my Dad's always embraced the British lifestyle even after living in the States in 13 years. I mean, he doesn't go around Park Avenue in a kilt or anything (God, I'd refuse to acknowledge him if he ever did that.), but he is still a huge fan of Quidditch, he still eats toast every morning (oh and tries to force some down my throat every odd morning, sadly I'm still a cereal and coffee guy.). And plus, he never really got rid of the accent, so it's almost as crisp as ever. Maybe a good slur every once in a while, but overall, he sounds fully Londoneer.

So how is it that he's not anti-England, but refuses to visit his home country? And mom, doesn't she miss Alsace or whatever? Why is it that Ly and me have never been in this continent before after we were born. I just don't get it. Something's not adding up. Did they have a falling out? But then why do relatives still visit. Are they criminals? Like on the Briton's most wanted list? Do they just not like it here? Doubt it. So they just not have the time or money? Double doubt it.

Those questions ran through my head over and over again until I felt my eyelids droop and my thoughts became hazy. I determined that I was going to get to the bottom of this and ask Mom what happened. Right after I apologized, see I'm not that bad.

I wanted to know why I had never really visited the country that I'm a citizen of. Yeah, my Dad's British, so instant citizenship. And I was born in England. So yeah, add two and two.

There's a reason why my mom and dad's been avoiding this country. Their history? I don't know. Maybe? Possibly. But I bet if I wasn't being sealed and stamped here, then they'd probably still not visit. It's not as if they've been making plans. And also I want to know why it's now of all times to ship me off here. What makes England so different, so special?

I rolled over in my bed and finally fell into unconsciousness, vaguely hearing thunder crash, while somewhere in my sub consciousness I faintly heard myself wondering what kind of place has a typhoon in the middle of August.

I had no dreams that night, only questions filled my head even while I was sleeping.

Something in England was making Dad jittery and it's totally not the weather.

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So what do you think? Like it? Don't? Review, review, review!

Well, I have decided that I sort of like having long chapters, so I'm gonna take longer to write chapters that long. But hey look on the bright side at least they'll be less pages to click through, just a lot of scrolling down. Tell me what you like! Rose and Scorp are coming up in the next chappie, except I wouldn't exactly call it…you know. Anyways, I'm glad to be back, and I'm writing the next chap straight away!

~Ms. Finally-Freed.


	7. Still Weathering a Storm Physically

The chapter after it starts. It sort of explains the future wizarding world, and I decided to add in some info about the American Wizarding World. What I'd imagine the WW would be in the U.S.A. =) Enjoy!

Thanks for the reviews for the last chappie, you guys are awesome! **taoueriT**: Glad you like Scorp and Al. Honestly, I thought he can be a jerk at times (Scorp), and Al can be a softy. But yeah, it'll get better. Don't worry, Ly's in the next chapter I think. Or in the very soon future. But she's definately appearing more times in the story. She's actually a pretty prominent role in Scorp's story, so just keep your eyes open. Glad you like it! **Nanita:** Haha, ditto. Yours was the reaction I was looking for. It's pretty different making a sad part since Scorp is so immature and jokey. Thanks! **Blackmoonlight777**: Thanks! Scorp is very flattered. His ever growing ego is now possibly bigger than it was before. You'll know about Draco in the next chapter. I know I say that alot, but yeah some things are just easier to fit in when the rest of the story's explained. Thanks for the review!!** Nickiegirl123**: Thanks for the review! You've been with Scorp since the start, so he appreciates that very much. Wait no longer! The chapter has arrived. Hope you like it. **gcant2**: thanks you! I didn't know my story was worthy of a 'Wow'. Gracias! **Jasmineflower27:** Glad you love it. What more can I say except thanks and I hope you like this chapter.

Love everyone who read and reviewed, alerted and even favored. It really makes the story worthwhile even if HP's not mine...

Disclaimer: Read the sentence above. All rights to Miss Joanna.

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Waking up to the sound of the curtains being pulled open and bright rays spearing my eyes is not the best way to meet the day unless you'd like to be squinting at everything 5 feet away. Trust me, when I say this.

My right hand slapped the area of my eyes, and shielded it from the sunlight. "Oh geesh! I'm blinded! Close the curtain before my corneas never recover." I grumbled to the dark shadow near the window. Huh. The figure had spots. Oh wait, sorry, my eyes were the ones with spots (actually, seeing them.) My bad.

"Sorry, mister Malfoy. But your mother had insisted in waking you up around this time." A wheezy voice said, I swear it sounded so wheezy it was like he was breathing the words out. I glared in the general direction of the awakener. Good thing my fingers were still sore from the other night or I would have hurled one of the ornate candlesticks at the blob by now. But I guess I'd miss anyway seeing as I was, well seeing double.

Okay, I know I can seem like a total stuck up prissy jackhole sometimes. But I assure you that majority of my life, I am not. That's usually my Dad's job.

Actually, it's safe to say that I'm a morning person. (Because half the mornings I'm too tired to think straight. But then again, I don't really have to start thinking until my first caffeine fix.) So I'm not sure what brought on my sudden bitterness towards the person. Maybe it's the fact that he practically shoved the sun in my face after what felt like 5 minutes of sleep. Yeah, that could be a reason for it. I should definitely save my detective moments for noon.

My vision adjusted (yay, I'm not sightless.) and I saw a very wrinkled old man standing where the big black blob was seconds before. Who the hell was that? I tried to rack my brain for any sign of a wrinkled, old, breathy person…I think, he was the innkeeper, we met last night. _What was his name again? Tom? Tom the innkeeper. Yeah, that's sounds right. _Those were the thoughts going through my head. Along with other stuff like 'I wonder if it's fatal to mix a wit-sharpening potion into my coffee.'

Rubbing my eyes in a futile attempt to wake myself up, I muttered groggily. "Yeah, well did my mom tell you to disable me?" Grinning up at the guy, I decided to give the guy a break and get over my crankiness. I mean, It's not his fault my mom told him to get me up, he probably had no idea he what he was trying to awaken. And besides I can never be fully pissed off at a man carrying a tray full of food. Which I could make out (alright, more like smell. It smelt fantastic.) It's almost impossible for me. "Well, yeah I'm up. I'm here. I'm…with it." I added with yawn in between, and sort of wave of my hand indicating my self state of sloppishness. I could feel drool on the side of my mouth and swiped at it with the back of my left hand. What a beautiful specimen of man I am.

Sitting up, I stretched my arms over head and rolled my neck, while Tom set up breakfast. If I saw scones on the table, I'm flinging it down on the ground and stomping on it. I don't care if Tom gets a coronary, there's a healer down the street anyway.

I thought to myself, slightly disoriented. But thankfully, no bready scone-ish substance was in my breakfast and I was relieved to see that it was pretty normal. Maybe Mom or Dad must have told Tom that I wouldn't accept so much as a bite of something English (I like my greet the day meals to be routine. By routine I mean cereal.) until like 3 o'clock, because it was actually, my usual breakfast. Cereal, fruits, an onion bagel and some cream cheese was spread out on the tray. I was still in England right? Well, I will be for the next 10 months. If I don't happen to cause any trouble harmful enough to send me back. Not that I'm suggesting anything. Hear me whistle.

I felt my eyebrows rise at the sight of normality, but hobbled over to the food, and began to stuff my face. "Fanks, Thom." I muttered through a mouth full of cereal, and expertly managing to get 2 words out without spilling a spoon full of milk and oats. Years of experience has honed my skill of keepings things in my mouth. (A talent that is oddly not very appreciated among the wider population for some weird reason.)

_How you managed to get a girlfriend in these past years is a complete mystery to me._ My conscience said. I rolled my eyes at um-my mind and replied sarcastically. "Well, good thing I have a superb personality." I wonder if Hitler had a conscience like this. If he did I can **almost** understand why he went bonkers.

"Sorry, Mister Malfoy? I didn't catch that." Tom breathed out. Woah, did I say that out loud? Oops. Swallowing a truck load of food, I let out a small burp and thought fast to cover my slip up. "Would you like to eat with me?" I asked quickly. Damn, for a brain that only starts functioning after warming up for an hour or two, it came up with a pretty good lie. I'd pat it, except it would seem extremely hannibalist if I did.

Tom grinned toothily at me, and I saw what a lovely smile he had. He was missing two teeth, and the rest of his chompers were either black or yellow. Good thing I was sitting down, I wouldn't want to faint in front of the poor guy after smelling his breath. "Thank you sir, but I have to attend to other guests. Maybe another time." He finished pouring the cup of coffee (I had to convince him that I didn't need him to pour the sugar and stir it. Honestly, I wasn't expecting 5 stars or anything, he didn't have to do so many stuff for me. I wasn't completely spoiled.), and went up to leave.

As Tom made towards the door, he turned around and said. "Oh, yes I almost forgot. Your mother gave told me to give you this note when you woke up." He placed it down next to the cheese. It was a letter with my name written in an inky, curlicue handwriting that I had recognized was my Dads.

I was pouring milk into my already sugary coffee (I need a good sugar fix in the morning.), and looked up in surprise at what Tom said. Weird, my rents never really sent me letters before if they couldn't come in person. Usually it'd be like a call on my cell or something. So this has gotta be important. "Did she say anything? Shoot!" I didn't know I needn't a 20/20 vision to work my hands. I guess I do since I ended up with a puddle of milk on my lap. B-e-a-u-tiful. I always wanted to have pants stained milk. Sarcasm is the last refuge for the unbecoming.

I snorted at myself and grabbed some napkins, since my wand was somewhere in yesterday's pants (Uh, hopefully you get what I mean.) Normally I'd swear or jump up or even do both, but I can't muster enough energy to stand, let alone jump to stand. I was that tired. "Let me get that, sir. " Tom said. He took out his wand and cleaned my milk peed sweatpants. Bless that man.

"Thanks." Smiling up at the guy, from my seat. It took all my strength not to rip the letter open even when Tom left the room. Was it good news? Bad news? I really hope it something good. Maybe they decided to pull me from Hogwarts. Crap! What if Gandma Cissy was in the hospital. Oh no, I actually like my Grandma. She always dotes on my towering height and slips me 12 galleons when my Dad isn't looking. Love that old lady. If she died I'd actually genuinely tear up in her funeral. Not so much for 'Grandfather'. What if Grandpa Luce was in the hospital? Eh, I guess I could care more.

My spidey senses were tingling as I grabbed the butter knife and slit the seams, getting butter all over the envelope. Whatever, it's not like I'm cherishing the packaging or anything. I'm weird, but I'm not deranged.

Glancing down at the paper I read through it quickly.

_Dear Scorpius,_

_Your mother and I have agreed that using the letters for communication is a fine way for you to get used to the process. So from now on we are sending you letters through Tom until we find a suitable replacement for a messenger. _

_Tonight we are having dinner with Grandmother Narcissa and Granfather Lucius at the Manor around 4 o' clock. So please be properly dressed and punctual. Mum is picking you up at the inn an hour beforehand. See you then son._

_Everyone's doing fine. _

_~ Your Father._

Man, that guy can sound so formal on paper, but meet him in real life and he can be that geekiest man on earth, minus the hideous shirt. Huh, I wonder what he meant by a 'suitable replacement for a messenger." If he meant a house elf or something, I am seriously putting my foot down. I mean I know my Dad and mom grew up around house elves, from a few of the brief stories about their childhood. But me? I am completely anti abuse and exploitation of magical creatures.

I know, it doesn't seem that way, but I totally am, since the Anti-Magical creature abuse community is pretty happening in the States. So I'm aware of what happens to the magical beings behind close doors, and let's just say I don't like I one bit.

Actually, a lot of people are really against the mistreatment of elves, goblins, centaurs, giants. The list goes on and on. And I even read somewhere that North America has the largest anti-magical oppression organizations in the Wizarding world. Apparently, The US is like the capital of those kinds of communities.

And I can see where they come from, because there are always protests and die-ins around the New York wizard community in like the Greenwich Village or the Upper West Side. (I can remember my first protest like it was yesterday. The screaming hordes of rioters, wave after wave of signs, and inspirational speeches that brought tears to my eyes. Then my parents had to ruin my day, by grounding me to the next century when I came home and realized that they had heard me on the WWN. Stupid corporations.) Even my school has like 20 different clubs that are supporting the humane way of magical lifestyle. Hell, I'm even in more than half of them. My Dad thinks I'm 'nuttier than squirrel poop'. So if Dad thinks that he's going to hire a couple of 'lowly' house elves, then he's got a another thing coming.

But I wouldn't put it past my dad. He is in another country, and he's totally paranoid Steven (our caretaker.) is out to get us. But no way, way in hell is he getting a house elf. Not if I have anything to do about it. I heard they were actually legalized here. I haven't seen a house elf, since I visited Thailand, and let's face it. They're ruled by monarchy, so everything can go there. And apparently here too.

I can't believe they really mistreat our magical brethren. It's cruel. There has got to be at least some people here who find this unjustly.

Breaking out of my reverie, I glanced back at the paper and read the last paragraph again.

Well, no one's on their sickbed so that's a plus. But darn, I have to have dinner with the grandparents. I won't mind at all if it was just Grandma Cissy, but with Grandpa Lucius…. (or should I say Grandfather? Nah. I'll stick with Grandpa just to see if it ticks him off. 'Grandpa Luce' will totally drive him to the edge. I used Grandpa Lucy once when I was 5 and I had a very long talk from my Dad. I wonder if the old man's forgotten about that.) Yeah, let's try to not think about that too much.

Because if I'm to interrogate my dad about his past (What better place do find out him, than the place where he grew up in?) I better be on my best behavior, and that is tremendously hard to do with Grandpa Luce around and conscious. Good thing I'm a determined little dolt. And besides, it's not like he'll kill me or anything. I am his grandson. What's the worst that could happen?

Um, you know what? Don't answer that. Let's just keep our fingers crossed and hope nothing blows up. Preferably him or me.

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It is friggin cold in London. Not like Alaska cold with snowflakes on your lashes and blue satin sashes or whatever, but more like a wet, let's-wear-our-rubber-rainboots-cuz-we-have-to, cold. Yeah, it's that cold. Another reason added to my list of stuff I don't like England. Its water capacity is like the Nile's. My sneakers will never be the same again. 'Why,' you ask, 'should I step out in this downpour in the fist place if I'm so scared my precious footwear would be ruined you prissy he biotch?' Well, the answers simple.

After showering and getting all dolled up for the meeting with my folk's folks, I realized that I needed to pick up my book from the day before, because _someone_ had happened to grab mine, before I could get it. Not that I'm complaining, because if I didn't I probably wouldn't talk with The Girl, and England would be a lot less interesting. Down boy.

But I had to get my book, before all stocks run out. And seeing as yesterday there was only one left then they must have gotten new stocks today, right? My logic was also mixed with my need to get out. And besides, by the time I get out of the store, the rain would probably just pause, and I can run back to Leaky in time for my departure. Oh, the naïveté of the brain never ceases to amaze me.

I glanced outside as I was pulling a shirt overhead, I saw that really heavy dark clouds were trickling with small droplets of rain. Great. It was starting to rain. Right before I was stepping outside. Is this a sign from God that I need another shower? Because if it is, he could have just sent me a note. Grabbing a hooded jacket, I hopped down the stairs and into the bar, walking as fast as I could seeing as I want to make it back before the streets overflowed and I like drown or something.

I opened the back door, and looked up to see black clouds gathering above me. There was no opening in the courtyard. Of course, it wouldn't be that easy to just stroll though a back door. This is me, we're talking about.

The only occupants in the whole yard besides me were a brick wall, a dusty old trash can and dead weeds. And what lively inhabitants were they. Huffing a bit I tried to remember the confidential passageway. Crap, what was password? "Bippity Boppity Boo?" I questioned the wall, only half joking. Yeah, I know it's really airheaded of me to even think that would satisfy anything except my stupidity, but I was getting desperate, I could feel the raindrops hitting my hair, because the courtyard didn't have a mini- roof or anything.

Racking my brain for any special dance moves my dad had to do in order to get in, I realized that he had used his wand (The wooden one.). But as I patted myself down, I realized I must have left my wand (Once again, the wooden one.) upstairs, because no non-attached stick were in my pants. I have the memory span of a crab. Thunder cracked, and it started to pour more heavily, I could feel my blond hair starting to plaster itself to my scalp and I put my hood up instinctively. What was the point of taking a shower in the first place?

I was about to admit defeat, and go back into the bar to ask Tom for the secret password, when someone tapped the bricks above the trash can and across (oh right, I had a feeling the trash can wasn't there for display. I mean, come on it looked like it was going to disintegrate any second.) and the stone wiggled into the archway. Turning to see if Tom had followed me outside, instead I met the upside of an umbrella instead. I backed up a bit to avoid a nose full of synthetic material, and yelled above the rain. "Thanks!" When the person turned around, I saw my rescuer: A middle- aged lady with wild, frizzy, brown hair, and caring brown eyes. Golly, she sure wasn't what I was expecting from a hero. No sword or scimitar was she clutching, not even a small gauntlet on her wrist. I have to say I was kind of disappointed.

But for some reason the hair looked strangely familiar to me, which is weird because wiry hair is certainly not the latest trend. Okay, is Britain that small, that everyone I meet looks at least remotely familiar? Because there was something in her face that looked really déjà vu-ish.

The look on her face was of pure shock, so I am guessing that we must have met before (if we didn't. Then did I have something on my face?) Her mouth gaped like a fish as I waited patiently for her to form words. Finally, she closed her mouth with a very animated snap, and spluttered out. "D-Draco. Is that you?" Yeah, not what I was expecting. Am I going to have to clear this up for everyone I run into at this archway? Why don't I just start handing leaflets?

What the hell. I thought as I stared at the lady in bewilderment, Is Dad like a celeb here in Europe, because for some reason, a whole lot of people know his name and how he looks like. But they don't know enough, I say, if everyone keeps on getting confused with me and him. I mean, sheesh. I know we're both blond and grey-eyed. But we have some differences. My mouth is not his, for one. One of our heads of hair is thinning, and let me tell you, it's not mine. And last but not least, I am young. He is not.

"No. I'm not. And nice to meet you too." I replied sarcastically in a fake-cheery voice, and walked into Diagon Alley. Really, this is starting to get really old. Do I have a neon sign flashing above me saying "Mini Draco Malfoy." I flapped an arm over my head, just to check, thankfully, my hand did not collide with anything solid (and good thing too, because my sore fingers haven't fully recovered yet.). You never know. Stranger things have happened. And besides, she probably thought I was a freak anyway. That usually happens in first impressions.

For me anyway.

It was raining buckets by the time I found myself in a familiar road, and my jacket was starting to weigh a ton from the wetness. This is what I get for forgetting the one thing that I've always had on me since I turned 11, on the day the clouds decided to see how long they could piss without taking a drink (Wow, that was wordier than usual.). I ducked into the closest shop, which was a quill store. And decided to wait it out. But I guess, either I'm not allowed to loiter in shops if I won't buy anything, the shopkeeper was afraid I'd get all his precious quills wet or he's just uptight that way (I opt for the last one.), because the guy told me to beat it once he realized I was dripping, and not with the urge to buy different feathered writing utensils either.

God, Brits are so anal. Man, if I had my wand right now, I would have performed some serious hexes on him. Or at least just shoved it up his pompous, stuck-in-the-air, nose.

So that is why I found myself in the pouring rain. Looking as lost as Dorothy, except with less optimism, not a single fictional companion and a lot more rain sodden clothes. Oh and a greater chance of getting pneumonia. You know, I think someone up there has it in for me.

Just a guess. Because if I was wet awhile ago, I was friggin submerged by now. My shirt was soaked through, my jacket was ruined. And don't even get me started on my shoes. It felt like I was walking on soggy yarn. Which is actually pretty dead set on, seeing as I was wearing socks.

As I looked up in a sudden desire to curse the heaven, suddenly, I saw a reprieve.

No, Mother Nature was still hell bent on showing me who's boss, because the typhoon was still hitting me full force. But thankfully, as I looked up (squinted actually, because I had just painfully discovered that water makes my eyelashes clump together.) I saw the beloved book store just a few blocks away. Ha! Take that, fates. You will torment me no longer with your weather games!

Not even pausing to think, (in case, they were planning to send a tornado my way.) I bundled up my jacket, and ran as fast as I could towards the store and appeared wet n wild in front of the door. Me and my imaginary grace. Good thing I opted for the dark green shirt instead of the white shirt, or else I'd imagine the leers I was getting would worry me for a whole other reason.

Flicking my drenched hair back, I slung my jacket over my shoulder (which made like a water arch, much to my awareness. It would have been pretty funny if like 5 other people weren't watching.) and strutted into the store.

Rule 2, in the Malfoy handbook: Confidence has to always accompany discomfiture. Or in Scorpius' translation: If you are in a ridiculous costume, or in my case, a soaked outfit, play it off cool like you meant for it to happen. Denial isn't the only a big river in the world.

My dad has taught me well.

I stepped inside, avoiding the stares in my direction. And tried not to drip too much on the hardwood floor, since the watermarks are pretty hard to get out even using Mrs. Scower's All-Purpose Mess Remover (don't ask how I know this, you probably won't want to know.). Looking around, I tried searching for the book keeper, I met yesterday (because I didn't know anyone, and I can't just go up to a random stranger whom I've never met before and say like. "Hey, how you doin? Can you do me a favor, and like dry me please?" I'm pretty sure it's not really acceptable in this country. States, sure. England, Not so much.) But saw just face after taken aback face.

Urgh, don't they have anything better to do than stare at a soggy, and probably suffering of pneumonia-ed, teenager? It's not like I'm leaking on them or anything. I'm leaking _near_ them. There's a difference.

Doing a 180, I looked around the store for any sign of Sir Bookkeeper. But to no avail. Of course, out of all the days the man decides to MIA, I have to come in as if someone dumped the pacific on my head. I smiled politely to the people staring at me, you know just to show that, yes, I knew they were gawking at me, (I'm soaking, not blind.) and turned away before they could see me rolling my eyes at them. God, why don't they just take a picture, it'll last longer.

After finally admitting that the bookman was definitely not within 4 meter radius, I concluded that he was most likely (if not buried beneath all these tomes. He could love books that much. It would be a fitting way to go.) at the end of the bookstore and trudged over to the towering cases. Not before allowing myself a cynical salute, before theatrically slipping and disappearing behind the shadows of the bookstore, like the smooth character that I am. I snort at my cynicism, it's my only vice.

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So there you go! Sorry about the long wait. A bunch of stuff had come up in my school, so I was kind of kept a little busier than I expected. Yes, apparently they still give us things to do once the exams are finished, who knew? So sorry about my lack of postage. I also had a small bout of writer's block. But luckily, I'm recovering. Thanks to everyone so much for the reviews! Don't stop! I really did love them so much. Readers are one of the main factors of this story's continuity, so keep on reviewing! You know I love you xoxo!=p

Yeah I know I promised longer chapters. But it's taking longer than I expected to finish the next paragraph, and I don't like to keep my readers waiting. So since this is done. I thought I'd just put it in. It's sort of a filler chapter in a way, because originally there was supposed to be a longer scene with stuff that set up for the future chappies. But yeah, I'm still working on it. I wish I could promise you a short wait, but I'm still planning things, because there's going to be a lot of long term things. SO with that explanation done, I will say no more lest I ruin it.

Same old, same old…. Did you like it? Not? Wish I could write faster? Favorite comments? Sorry if it's rushed. I promise I'll slow down. Reviews make my day. Rushing through the author's note, sorry, but Scorp is waiting. =p See you guys in the next chapter! Love You!

~the-Determined-Procastinator.


	8. Welcome to The Games

Dear Readers,

Sorry about the waiting. Hopefully this will make up for it. A lot of planning had to be done for the storyline, so know I think it'll be smooth sailing as far as writing goes. (keep them fingers crossed.) Got my plans, just got to do some finishing touches and quirks. I know some parts are confusing, like I think I got some small facts mixed up and some things don't add up to what they say in the last chapter. Sorry, just tell me so I can clear it up. Thanks for all the comments! I'd list you guys for a shout out. But I'm kind of really sleepy, and I've been writing for like 4 hours straight. Just know that I love you guys! Thank you so much! Hope this one's as good as the rest.

Read and Review!

Disclaimer: Not mine. Nuff said. Just the storyline came from my head.

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Isn't it just funny, how sometimes you find something only when you least expect it? Like you'd be looking for a quill in your bag, but instead find a few extra galleons that you forgot about like months ago. Just saying, it's not the type of thing you start bawling about with tears of mirth in your eyes, not unless you're like retarded or anything. And that's not funny.

Well, it's not supposed to be.

What it does do is make you stop, look and listen, baby. Yup, like the song. Not really. It just makes you stop, but not the other stuff. I mean, It's not one of those things you spend hours of insomnia over, like a life-changing, 'eureka!' worthy breakthroughs. But more of a subtle, yet still recognizable kind of funny that can make you say "hey, would jyah look at that." (Call me the next Shakespeare. I are genius.)

Yeah, all that pretty much sums up what happens next.

So as I was walking through a few aisles of massive shelves, I tried to glance through the packed and stacked shelves. But well…they're packed and stacked so you can guess why I could see zilch of the other side. And by that time I like was freezing in my clothes, whilst shivering in my favorite, (but currently.)mud-soled sneaks. Note to self: Remember to Scourgify my shoes once I've got my wand. Man being a muggle or a squib must be pretty sucky at times. Thank God wizard genes are more dominant.

"Hello? Mr –um-, bookkeeper? You there?" I said loudly to the bookshelves (I forgot the last time I used someone's name expect for Al. Saying goodbye to my next door neighbour, maybe?), peeking in occasionally, all the while trying to not trickle on the pages. Let me tell you, that is harder to do than it sounds. _Shlopp shlopp schlopp _God, it's as if my shoes want to remind me of my current moisturisation state with every step. _Schlopp schlopp schlopp you're dripping schlopp schlopp schlopp. _Yeah I think I got it, by the third wet 'schlopp'.

Rapping my knuckles on the wooden bookcase, I cautiously peeked my head out of the nearest edge of the shelf and checked if the coast was clear in the aisles before stepping out. Yeah, I go through a lot of crap to avoid the Staring. It's just, I really hate when people stare at me.

When people begin the Gawk, I can't help think crazy stuff. Like "Is my fly open?", "Did Lyra put makeup on me while I was sleeping again?", or my ultimate worst, worst, worst experience "Crap do I still have my clothes on?". Half joke. Seriously, it happened before. I experienced a lot during the long days of them 15 years of my life. But yeah, I'll leave the specifics out for a drunken party trip down memory lane.

Let's just say that I was the butt of a lot of kids jokes back in middle school, because I was scrawny, had a weird name and was a pretty introverted kid. So I was picked on day in and day out. Up until I found my best friends, and they taught me how to pull the best revenge pranks ever. Then I guess that's where everyone started to see me, not the Scorpion Child. Yeah, that was like my nickname, even used by my friends (even after I threatened them a billion times to quit it. They're as stubborn as I am.), right before I hit puberty and started to fill out. I guess, I can't really blame them for calling me that. I was a pretty pointy featured kid. So you see: 'Scorpion Child'. You can tell why I hate my name now.

Yeah let's say all that.

By the time I was through the 4th aisle, I was cold, wet and was starting itchy in places I cannot say. Running my trembling fingers through my strands, I slicked back my hair so that it resembled Dracula or my dad, Draco. Not much difference between the two now that I think of it. They both have the same general sense of fashion. All morbid, dark colors and 50-ish. And just to clear it up, I'm talking about the **17**50s. That's right.

I called the guy's name (if his name was Mr. Bookkeeper.) a few more times; just to entertain everyone's perceived notions about the crazy, sodden, blonde teen at the back of the bookstore and rapped the bookshelf again for like the fifth time. Okay, I'm starting to get irritated. Where is that guy? I am freezing my-

"You know, you're supposed to take off your clothes before you take a shower." I heard a feminine, yet still gravelly voice say from behind me, scaring the wits almost out of my pants. I would have shat myself, if I was a few years younger and had a lot less bladder control. Thank my bladder power.

_Down boy._ My conscience said condescendingly. And for once, I didn't even bother arguing, because let's face it, I could use the advice. Considering my um-reaction to the words she just said.

I could recognize that voice anywhere, seeing as I'd spent the previous night before dreaming of it among other things.

Oh yeah, I need a quill to write a little note on my hand, something to remind me to apologize to my mom. And find my wand. And find an extra pair of pants. And fix my shoes. Quite a list I got to do, and in such a small amount of time. I wonder what dear Astoria's going to say when she sees me soaking. If I know my mom it's going to be nag after nag after nag, maybe I can just randomly throw in my apology during her dialogue. But no, that won't count and it'll take out all the fun- and Oh sweet Merlin.

What am I doing?

Last time I heard this voice, I was on one side of a bookshelf, and she was on the other. And I couldn't see her face. And here I was, by the sound of it, 3 feet away, about to finally put a face to the voice of the enchantress in my dreams, and I'm thinking about my mom. God, did my parents break me out of an insane child asylum? Because I'm pretty sure I'm _loco_ by the looks of it.

Wait, what did she say? I could practically smell the laughter she was trying to conceal Crap, for a moment there I forgot I was trickling from every angle. Shoot me, please. There is no greater torture than this. No, oops, I stand corrected, there is something more embarrassing than resembling a wet dog.

Being a wet dog with Dracula's hair. I have Dracula's hair. Grreeaaat.

Really could someone up there warn me, at least 3 months in advance if something like this is ever going to happen? So that I can arm myself with the necessary weapons for these types of situations. Like my wand, or a towel.

Or an invisibility potion.

Fat chance that'll happen. Because remember, Big Guns Upstairs hate me. So chances of them even sending me a small memo telling me that something might happen even a day in advance is like zero. Man, I must have been plain evil in my past life. Evil. Was I like a kitten kicker, or a baby stealer? **Crud, was I Hitler?!**

_My God, man. A girl just directly asked you a question and you're trying to find out if you were a cruel muggle dictator in the past life. Dude, answer back for Putnam's sake!_

_**Fine, fine! God, I swear, you're so anal. I could mistake you for a Brit.**_

Hm, at least a part of my conscience has my personality, because the moment I said this it shut up because of what I assume is outrage. Yes! I have my mind all to myself! And it is insane. Oh well, I already knew that.

But now, I bet The Girl is starting to have an inkling of my state of sanity (or lack thereof) since I haven't spoken in what? a decade?

I could really go for the invisibility potion right now, as I felt my face burn up. Why don't they just add steam to my ears and make it a little more obvious. Before turning around, I used all my willpower to school my features into anything that was not the horrified caught-in-the-headlights look, and tried to grin. I bet I looked constipated.

I heard my save "Really? Hm, sounds interesting. I'll give it a try next time." Not bad. Charming, playful, yet still aloof. There are some times I really don't mind being me. Sometimes. It could have been delivered a little more earlier.

And now, the moment of truth.

Counting to three, I took a deep breathe and turned around to finally face and see her.

It was like looking into an autumn portrait.

Bright red hair ran wild across her shoulders, and it wasn't the cute carrot-top red, but more of like a pretty auburn hue that would've been achieved if a person with bright red hair reproduced with brunette (Who knows?) But instead of being all too perfectly waved (which probably spelled hair job), instead it was the kind of curly that no girl would intentionally get. And yet, here she wore it loose, free and proud. And thankfully it suited her. It was, no other word for it, cute.

I tried to check her out, without openly gawking lest I most probably creep her out.

Now her body assessment. Nice bod. Slim, but not overly skinny like how some girls back at home tried to make themselves by counting carbs and shoving toothbrushes down their throats. Those kind of girls really freaked me out. The girl right in front of me, didn't look like the type to bring a food diary to every meal. She didn't even look like the type of girl who knew what a food diary was (Heck the only reason, I know what it is, is because more than half of my exs' owned one. So that is more than half of exs' books I have burned.)

She looked pretty athletic, not muscled-body builder type that would cause me to shrink against a wall in fear, but kind of the normal, healthy type. Not the best rack, I have to say. (Hey, I'm a guy. At least my thoughts aren't NC-17 or anything. Well most of them. Besides, it's not like I'm writing a score on some board and lifting it up in the air.) almost as if it was non-existent in a way. But hey, no one's perfect. And she was the closest thing to it.

And anyway, the spatter of freckles across her cheeks and nose made me smile. Really adorable (Ahem, not that I'd say this out loud, I have some man-dignity I would like to keep thank you very much.).

But her eyes were the real kicker. Get this, they were sky blue. Like I half expected clouds to start drifting by. I have a thing for eyes. And hers were…really blue.

I realized that I hadn't exhaled throughout my whole evaluation, and proceeded to do so.

And it was then that I become conscious of the fact that I was staring at her. Again. For possibly 5 minutes. Non-stop. Geesh, she must think it's my calling card or something.

Scorpius: The Guy that stares at Redheads for at least 2 minutes. You may find him at 120 East 70th Street or 66 East 79th Street, New York (My Dad has a thing for the Upper East Side. Personally, I like the apartment better than the mansion, but whatever.) Or contact him at 679917283721.

Oh wait, no you cant. Whoops. Yeah, I won't be there for 10 out of 12 months. I'll be living somewhere in the Scottish landscape, hiding behind a green hill with Frodo. Yay. Hopefully, Hogwarth has good reception. Otherwise, I'll have to walk to the nearest village every day, just so I can keep my social life still aflame.

People are gonna think I'm so weird in Hogwarts, aren't they? All the Brits I met so far think so anyway.

And judging by the way The Girl's looking at me oddly, I bet she's thinking the same thing. Way to go, Scorp. If she didn't think that the dripping you was a total freak, I bet now she would.

'Maybe she didn't notice.' The naïve/stupid part of me said. Yeah, and I'm the Queen of transvestites.

"Do you stare at everyone this way?" She said, eyeing me oddly. See, I knew it. Well who could blame her? I don't think I blinked for like 5 minutes. God, blink, boy, blink! And if you're not too stupid, try saying something.

"Naw, you're special." I drawled sarcastically and flicked a wet strand away from my forehead, getting my head together. Finally! A response! Well, it's not really a sarcastic comment, but I don't need to tell her that just yet.

Her eyebrow raised for God knows what reason. Suspicion? Fear? Intrigue? Finally her lips gave it away as it twisted into a smirk.

Cocking an eyebrow, she said (albeit slightly mockingly.) "Er, Thanks. I'm also Rose." She let out her hand while her eyes twinkled, as if this was the funniest thing in the world. Is this some sort of common British attribute? Eye twinkling? Because a lot of people do it here. Maybe it's like a phase or fad.

But hey, fad or no fad, it's going well so far. Yes! Rose. Rose. Rose. I got her name. I thought somewhat giddily as my wet hand enveloped Rose's soft and warm one. I got a tingling feeling through my fingers and up my arm which made me dizzy. I almost let go of her hand in shock. Weird. Did I have static? Is it even possible to be staticky when damp? Maybe it's the effect of the dryness of her skin in contact with my not so dry ones, I don't know, maybe? I mean, I heard water's a good conductor of electricity, so maybe Rose…has….some.

Ok, never mind. I have no idea why that happened. I learn from experience, and I can safely say I have never experienced an electrifying human conductor's handshake before. But hey, I wouldn't say no. It's not exactly a bad feeling. I couldn't tell if she felt it or not, because her grip didn't change. But I could have sworn, glancing up at her I saw her eyes widen just a little bit. Or I could be hallucinating. It has happened before. True it was under different circumstances, but hey, it happened all the same.

Rose has kind of small hands. I thought and inwardly breathed a sigh of relief (not from the sight of Rose's small hands. I'm not that weird. Although, I'm kind of glad that her hands aren't bigger than mine or that would be a real confidence killer.) as our hands moved up to down. She's not running away at least. So that's a thumbs up.

_Not yet, that is. _

**Great. You're back. **

_Of course I am, I couldn't miss her face, when she realizes what a dunce you are._

**You don't know if Rose'll think I'm a freak or not. Oh and I'm not a dunce.**

_Really? Then why haven't you spoken in the last 30 seconds?_

Aw, crap.

"I'm Scal-orpius. I mean, Scorpius." I stuttered out, getting my tongue tied. Smooth, real smooth. God, what happened to me? I used to be like the best at picking up girls. Now, I can't even say my name right on the first try. Great way to introduce yourself, with a funny (possibly as fictitious as it is stupid sounding.) name and stammering. She probably not only thinks I'm a liar for making up such an odd name, but a bad liar at that for tripping over it in the first place. Hand me a trophy, I got to receive some reward for the embarrassment I go through.

I blame it on the country. (Big surprise.) There must be something in this place that's turning me into a babbling idiot. The water? The food? I did eat enough of it to feed a starving cougar. I knew one day my appetite would be the death of me.

Cringing at my slip, I focused my eyes on Rose's (I'm never going to get tired of saying that name. And rightfully so, I still got the bruise from our last encounter.) freckled nose to avoid having to see the result of my shame on her pretty face. Sadly, I was still able to see part of her face (or the mouth part. I was oddly fixated with that feature.) and saw Rose's smile widen as she let out a small chuckle. Hm, on second thought, I guess 'blubbering idiot act' isn't too bad if I got to make her laugh at the end.

"Nice to meet you." She smiled warmly. Her palm was warm, and dry. Well anything would be dry compared to my skin right now. I could be mistaken for part slug skin. But I liked her fingers, they were soft, warm, dry. And trying to let go.

Is it me or are we still shaking hands. "Erm, Scorpius, can I have my hand back please."

Yup it's not just me. I quickly let her hand down and apologized profusely for sullying the dryness of her palm. And for holding it for so long. I hope she doesn't think of me as some obsessed stalker, because that would blow. Big time.

I really have no idea what happened to the smooth Scorp. I must have left him in New York, because I haven't seen him since we stepped out of the ministry. Did I forget to pack him? Oh no. God, out of all the times to not be the smooth guy that I am, it has to be around this chick. Life is not fair. Cue the 3 year old tantrum.

I think nine sorries will do. I stopped and tried to salvage whatever ounce of cool I had not managed to flush down the toilet. "Uh, sorry about that."

Oh-kay, I guess, my mouth is not listening, because I clearly said that the ninth sorry is good enough already! "I'm really, really sorry about you hand. I'd dry it but well, you can see that my shirt isn't at it's best."

11 sorries and counting. God, I really hate myself. Like my self-loving is among a wrist-cutter's right now. Well not really. I'm afraid of knives. So sharp things near my wrists are a big no-no.

Rose laughed, cutting me off mid-sentence (What was I even saying?) and assured me. "It's alright. Really. You don't have to keep on apologizing. A wet hand is really not that important." Yeah well sorry anyway. I was about to say, but she beat me to it before I could utter the ya syllable.

"Well just tell me you didn't hold the book in this state."

Her voice was shaking with barely suppressed laughter from the joke, and I couldn't help say back.

"Gee thanks for your concern. I can be suffering of pneumonia, just as long as the precious book's alright."

Shrugging her shoulders. "The book was the last one in the store." I saw my chance.

"That sucks. Now where'll we get a pair." I said slowly and a bit more clearly, because nothing ruins a strategically laid out the bait like a repetition. Come on, take it. Take it.

Her eyebrows rose slightly as she asked "You didn't take it?" Bingo.

"Nope. Someone took it when I got back." I casually drawled, trying to seem nonchalant. "And I'm guessing you didn't get one either?"

She shook her head. It's like taking candy from a baby. A really pretty baby. Ew. Okay, that just sounded wrong. No more baby metaphors. It's like taking candy from a really hot chick. That sounds better.

Smirking, I lowered my eyelids (Not a flutter. Men do not flutter.) and looked through my lashes. "Yeah, well there's got to be some new ones around here somewhere. Come on, let's take a look around." I tried to make it sound like a subtle invitation almost like a purr (except less, feline/feminine.), and was satisfied to see a blush forming on her cheeks (that's what I love about red-heads. They're easy to read. No mind games, they're blush says it all.) and heard a small intake of breath. God, I love my face sometimes.

_Hand the boy a mirror and a comb._

Ignoring the voice in my head (It's not going to take away my confidence boost. Thank you very much.) I did my last move, I slid a lazy smile onto my lips and tilted my head to the book shelves to indicate the places to search, and then walked a few steps backward, before turning around and slowly going down the aisles. Leaving a rather flustered Rose behind me.

Afew seconds. I counted 3,2,1, point fingers.

I heard her footsteps following me. Score! (Do the mental 'wave.')

And hey! Smooth Scorp's back. Good to see you again buddy. I discreetly looked over my shoulder to see if Rose was still following me. And saw that she was a couple of steps away. I smiled when Rose caught up "What a pleasant surpise. Nice of you to join me." I said feigning politeness, grinning when I caught the smile she tried to conceal behind the roll of her eyes (the reddish tinge to her face was receding, but still there). We both went off together into the deeper rows of shelves. Yup, I still got it.

Scorpius: 1, Rose the beautiful: 0

Yeah, I know it's totally non-gentlemanly for me to think that, but hey, it's not like I'm going to say that out loud. I actually want to seem like a nice guy. So until then I'm keeping my primal, dominating, neanderthal filled thoughts to myself. And maybe share a few stories with Al. He's got to be red-blooded too right? And it'll be a good story to share. How I Got my Girlfriend, see, nice ring to it. I smiled smugly at myself, as we stopped by the Astronomy section.

Suddenly, I heard Rose mutter something, and felt a warm wind practically blast into my face. I stepped back, scrunched my face in shock and exclaimed in surprise (something among the lines: Swat the duck?!). Hey you would to if the tornado you were least expecting from the Gods was all up in your face. Literally.

It washed through my body. I reached for my pocket (but then, what was I going to do? Throw lint at it?), but before I could so much as put my hand down, the winds died down as fast and sudden as it came. What the hell? I thought we were indoors. I felt oddly lighter and kind of warm. Weird.

I turned around to see if Rose was in any way wind tossed or harmed, and blinked at the sight.

I was expecting wind-swept red hair, messed up clothes (I would have given anything to see that, I have to admit.), any form of dishevelment I was feeling or at least a shocked and puzzled expression.

What I wasn't expecting, was neat, OK not really, more like normal frizzed hair, properly arranged sweater and jeans, a laughing smug expression on her freckled face, and wand holding arm aloft. I blinked hard.

"What the hell was that for?" I demanded incredulously, my eyes wide. Okay, let's face it, I was cheesed. So I flirted with her for like 5 seconds, why in sweet name of Peacegood did she find that a reason to unleash the four winds on me?! It's not like I verbally 'insulted' her or anything. I turned my full glare on, which had on numerous occasions caused my friends to back away a few steps and give up their last ice-cream scoop. Yeah, it's not the expression you'd want to find on my face.

But unlike most girls, her expression didn't falter. It didn't even twinge. If anything it grew wider and her eyes started to shimmer like stars. Her smug smile was still on her lips. You don't hit girls, never hit girls, it's wrong to hit a girl.

taking a deep breathe I asked in a calmer and more curious voice. "What was that for?" I cocked my eyebrow. Now I was just really curious. What'd she do to me anyway?

Her answer caught me by surprise. "I didn't want you to drip on the books." She smirked.

Glancing down, I saw my clothes dry (although, pretty wrinkled.) and felt my hair. Yeah, it was disheveled (more than usual.). Yeah, it was mussed, Yeah, it looked as if Lyra had used Mom's 'borrowed' wand to 'straighten' my hair again. Point-blank, it was dry.

I was dry.

No wonder I felt so light and warm. It's because I was. Well, she could have warned me.

But yeah, I couldn't stay mad at Rose for that long. She did dry me. I was however, taken off my high horse. I mean, come on, my reaction must have been die-hard hilarious, and my face expression: priceless. So yeah, my bruised ego should be a relief to everyone right now. (was that an oxymoroned sentence? Possibly.)

"Thanks." I grumbled. Shoving my hands in my now dried pockets, I wrinkled my forehead in an attempt to smile. "Bookworm." Eh, cheap shot, whatever. Something's got to lighten my mood.

"No problem." She replied brightly, the comment barely fazing her. "You were leaving wet marks on the floor anyway." Flouncing past, I stared dumbfounded as she stuck her nose in the air and stowed her wand up her sleeve. Ouch, definite Burn factor.

I didn't know if I should follow her or not. She seemed pretty pissy at the bookworm comment. I shuffled my feet a bit, and heard her call out my name.

I looked up to see her facing me with her hands on her hips a few steps away. Woah, for a second there, I could see a little bit of my mom (something in the way she stood.). And for the queerest reason, Albus. Creepy.

Um okay. Not normal. And definitely not the two people you'd like to see in a girl you're digging. I swear I had to resist the urge to rub my eyes, hard. Oh and gag. The latter was very tempting.

Luckily, the image was broken the second her voice broke out, quite irritably. "Well, are you coming or not? Or did I miss something when I tried to dry you?" Huh, and I was having such peaceful thoughts.

I do not like that tone missy, I almost said in my best principal voice (I'm pretty good at impressions.). But instead I made my way towards her. "Geesh lady, we're not in the army. No need to boss me around. I swear you could be like the reincarnation of Mussolini." I muttered in an undertone.

"What did you say? Did you call me bossy?"

"You know what let's just drop it." I said firmly, putting my hands up in defense, in case she was planning to like gouge my eyes out or something. God, I'm such a wuss. I can't even defend myself against a teenage girl.

Shaking my head, I walked towards lady like the little doggy I was. God, what happened to my integrity? I bet it got carried away with the winds that hit me. For once I thank God, my friends aren't here to see this. I am one loincloth away from being her personal slave/servant. But seeing Rose with her expression defiant, and her posture regal and commanding. I don't think I'd mind that much.

Woah, wait, a second. This is Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy (cringe). Since when does he let himself be whipped by some bossy, British, chick? Nuh-uh. That's the answer. That ain't happening to me. No way. I'm showing this little vixen whose boss. I am a New Yorker, it's in my blood.

"Come on. I think the spellbooks are at the back." She said stiffly when I finally was beside her.

You have to hand it to her. Rose was one feisty chica with a tude that screamed 'in charge'. I can't say I look for it in a girl, but it's not particularly unattractive. Personality, spunk, and determination is pretty hot, you know in retrospect.

Urgh, but it's kind of annoying up close and personal. The attitude. I mean, I'm all for a girl certifying her independence, and all (we are in the 21th century after all.), but it's like nag after nag after nag. Sooner or later, it's going to sound like my mom, and that's gonna be one ugly sight. Or is it sound?

"Good thing, you're dried. You were starting to drip on me." She said, as we strolled through the rows. I turned my head to answer back, but was caught off guard at her joking expression. Rose winked, before increasing her pace and leaving me behind blinking after her.

Hey! That's my move!

"Ahck." I said shaking my head, and jogging to catch up. Tally up the score, boys. And we're in for one rough time.

Rose: 1, Scorpius: 1

Let the games begin.

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Hi! So wudda think? Like it? Don't? This is sort of their official meeting. I mean, he got her name so that's pretty much a giveaway. Comments, comments, comments! Yeah, I know Scorp seems pervy, but he's a boy and a well a boy. These are his thoughts, so they're supposed to be almost unlimited and uncensored in a way. He's still a pretty decent guy. So don't go beating him with a stick for him testosterone-filled thoughts.

Did I do Rose alright? I was sort of aiming for a tom-boyish, playful, but still uptight and bossy feel to her character. I actually wanted to close a few things here (actually I was planning fro their meeting to end in this chapter. But there was just so much to be done.), so the Hogwarts scene will be in a few more chapters. I know, I know, my promises are pretty inaccurate. But I'll try my best to make them more… um accurate.

A few other things I want to say, but I'm dead beat, way groggy and a little impatient, so I'll just mention it either on the writer's profile or in the next chapter.

See you soon

~ Ms. Tired-slee-okay you know what never mind-Izzy

P.S: Oh yeah, I know I said no shout outs from me in this chap, but just needed to mention this. Or I think I wouldn't do it in the next chapter. Thanks to AdfinemAdinfinitum for the character request. Rachel Hurd Wood is definitely Rose with straighter hair.


	9. Apologies and Such

Hey! Okay I know how much these things annoy the hell out of people in general, so I am so terribly, terribly sorry for this. Yes, yes, yes it is an author's note. I just wanted to apologize to everyone for this wait. I had a lot of things going on, like summer school, malfunctioning computers, and my ability to oversleep. So please forgive me for my lack of entry. I saw a dip in the readers and subscribers and stuff, and started writing as fast as I can. But a girl can only go so fast. I have like 8 scenes to cover and none of which are small or not important, so please don't kill me if I tell you it's not coming out today or tomorrow. I'm so sorry!!! Hence the use of excess punctuation. I love you readers, and I really hope you don't write me out any time soon. Okay just a few things that I want to put in. I know I said, there'd be some dark stuff in this story. But yeah, I cancelled that and decided to put it in a nicer light. There's still some drama, because it being a teenage thing, how can it not have? But there are going to be less stuff wrong with the characters and more events happening. But don't worry though, still a character building story, and still lots of angst and teenage youth. Just a couple of details aren't going to be in it. Oh but I may start to put in the emotional problems, in the…..Sequel!!! Yup, I have decided to write Scorp's sixth year and maybe seventh. But a lot of the themes might change though in the second one. But yeah I have a plan for what might happen.

So yes, there will be a sequel entitled: Scorpius and his slightly deflated big-head.

Hahaha just kidding, actually I'm thinking more of The Symptoms of Culture Shock. Or just simply Culture Shocked. It's actually gonna deal with a lot of stuff from the next generation's own past. So yeah, stuff are gonna be biting at Scorp's butt a lot. Poor guy, his rearend must be aching by now. So if you guys want a sequel, just click the review button below and tell me if you're all for the Symptoms of Culture Shock.

Okay on another note: I'm also starting another fanfic. It's not on here yet, so I have yet to write it on my profile. But yeah, it's not a next generation thing sadly, but an AU of the present generation. A family thing. But yeah, I have yet to write. But when I do, I would deeply appreciate it if people would show interest. I won't say the plotline, just yet. Hopefully, it hasn't been done before.

Really sorry for my past ansentees. I'm not gonna promise it will come out soon, because I'm not sure when it's gonna be finished probably in another week (*ducking from the tomatoes being thrown my way*) and I want to stop upsetting my readers. But I put in an excerpt, so that people won't be completely driven off. So, so sorry! People were expecting to read Scorp's point of view but instead got a pageful of me. Sorry! But like I said I can't promise it'll come out soon, but I will say that it is gonna be one really long chapter. I'd cut it, but I want to have a maximum of 4 or 5 chapters before the Hogwarts entries start. But yeah, Besides the extremely long author's note, the excerpts are from the next chapter. And hopefully with satisfy you guys. Or keep people still interested in this little fanfic. It's not the final draft though, so I might still add in more sarcastic comments and stuff in the final version. So sorry about the wait! But I will make it up to you guys!

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Oh yeah, here's a shout out! Jasmineflower27: Thanks for that, it's good to hear that I made one of your days. Oh and yes, I can't wait for the Hogwarts scene either. It's gonna be one hell of a year for Scorp. Nickiegirl123: Sssh, thanks for that, but don't go inflating Scorp's already metero sized ego. Lol! Thanks. And yes *whispers* I agree, he is. Glad you love it! Cat: Yay! I know, some of the stuff are kind of mean. But hey it works for him, so it works for me. Zee: Aw, thank you! I don't think I heard amazing before. I try to make Scorp seem real, and I really cringe when I read those stories where Americans go to Hogwarts and they're all emo and punk. I mean, hello. Americans are humans too you know. So I know what you're talking about. Stereotypes and their weirdness. But thanks for the review. It's one of my favourite ones. Jaik34: Wow, thanks! I try. But to be in your top Scorpius P., is really out of this world. Thank you! And I am writing as fast as I : Hello, friend. Woah you comment on like every chapter. Love it! Scorp loves you. Adfinemadfinetatum: Thanks, I wasn't sure if the last chapter was what everyone was waiting for, so to read it from someone without having to ask is wonderful! Yup, Rachel is Rose, just want to thank you for that again. I didn't know who to put until you showed me her. Thank you!! (Oh and is there like a shorter name that I can use? Like Adfine? Or Tatum? Because I type it a lot in my shout outs and a lot of the time I misspell it.) Kopycat: Thanks! I haven't heard cute either before I think. So thanks. HMMadawell: Yay! Someone loves my version of Rose! Thank you thank you thank you! I tried to inject as much character as I could. While making her different from other girls. Bottled-Sunshine: Yay! Wow, a newcomer! Extremely grateful for the review. Thank vous, thank vous, thank vous! Thank you to everyone who reviewed subscribed and favourited! I am so sorry about the wait, but I assure you. I still love Scrose and this story will not be abandoned. And if I do, I will leave it under very capable hands.

Hope you will forgive me, and still continue with this story for the sake of Scorp.

~Ms. Chagrined And Am Hoping Readers Won't Hate Me and the Story.

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Rose recovered quickly at my little psychoanalytical game change plan (damn, she's fast.) and walked forward until we were about 5 inches apart. She was so close I could smell the faint fragrance of something flowery. It was her hair. Okay, don't write me off as a freak who smells girl's heads of hair. If I remember correctly, she was the one who was all up in my face with her tude and stuff. I almost expected her to snap in my face.

But her being her uptight prissy self didn't. No, she just pointed in my face.

You know, melodramatic doesn't suit Brits very much. I think it's more of an American thing. The accent kinda throws the comment off. Or maybe it's the hair. It is rather frizzy.

"You are, to coin a word your tiny mind could probably comprehend, an asshole!"

Woah there, Miss I'm-hot-shit, (well she is, under different cicurmstances.), what's with the sudden burst of hostility. Asshole? Tiny mind? That's going too far don't you think?

"You're a bitch!" I came closer.

"You're a dick!" I loomed over her, and she had to look up as I towered over her. And that's when blue met grey in a clash of glares and fury. I could see her eyes, even though they were like a foot under me and I could feel my neck strain a bit from looking down too much. Stormy and azure, like an upset sky.

But there was so much emotion in her eyes, passionate, treacherous, and really, really sexy. And I could tell she was seeing something different too, because the blue orbs widened a bit, and her eyebrows weren't slanted so viciously anymore.

Something in me clicked and it felt as if a force started to control my body. I felt myself being drawn to her, closer and closer. And soon I saw her eyelids slide shut from the corner of my eyes. My main focus was for a feature under it.

I was a breathe away from the cupid-bowed lips, before I finally felt my eyes close.

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A little gift for one of the reviewers, because Ly is also very underappreciated. To: Taouerit.

"Hey Scorpie!" A pair of pale, thin arms enveloped my midriff and sent me a couple steps back as Lyra hugged me.

Aw, as much as I love this kid. I will always love oxygen a little bit more. And she was cutting of my main supply, right from the source itself. The lungs.

So that's why I allowed her only 15 seconds of my care bear hug time, and peeled away taking a deep breathe. I exaggerated the motion a bit, to show that I really appreciated the lung-crushing. Well more like the compassion behind it. I could do with a less smushed diaphragm.

"Hey Ly, where's Dad at?" I said ruffling her hair once I was mostly released. She kept an arm hooked around my forearm.

Ly shrugged. "I dunno, I saw him in a room today. But I forgot which one. I lost track after the third kitchen and the second ballroom."

Woah, third kitchen? You know what that means? It means, there are more food places.

Thus more staff required to maintain this lavish lifestyle. Hence, house elves to free! (Did I just say hence and thus in the same breath? Queer.) Yes! This could finally be my chance to really piss Grandpa Luce. I think I can live with on less tie or a pair of socks.

"Scorp, why are you smirking evilly, with one eyebrow up? You look like you're about to eat a coronary."

No…that would be too cannibal-like. Man, I'm really gonna miss this kid. She makes me feel smarter than usual. Oh damn, was my sinister plot showing on my face? Whoops.

"It's canary, my dear." I suppressed the urge to snort or roll my eyes and then do both. "So where's dinner? Or do they call it supper here? I am never gonna get used to their lingo. It's so different and weird."

"Yeah, it's gotta be a real change making full sentences, like with proper grammer and actual dictionary vocab." Ly fake shuddered, then rolled her eyes. Hm I do not appreciate your sarcastic tone missy. It reminds me to much of myself. Scary, it's like looking into a mirror. If the mirror showed how I'd look like as a 10 year old girl, that is.

Narrowing my eyes I said. "You know, mom's right. I am a bad influence on you."

"Let's go to dinner." She sighed exasperated. Oh, they grow up so fast. One moment they're your baby sister who mimics everything you say just to annoy you. Then a blink later, they're making snarky comments you yourself could have made. And I promised myself I would cry.

Pull yourself together, man. Shaking my head, I saw our crossing options. We were at a croosroad. Of course we were. Every place I want to instantly be in, has to involve a crossroad at some point.

"So where's the evening meal foyer?" I asked in my best snooty-british accent. Expecting to hear at least a small giggle from my baby sis. I heard none.

Tough crowd.

Turning around to face her, I saw her big blue eyes widened and fear written across her slightly pointed features. "I thought you knew!" She whispered.

Oh crap. "How am I supposed to know? I've been in this house for like 2 seconds."

"Um, okay. How about 3'o' clock."

"Sure just one problem Ly." I said through gritted teeth. "we go 3'o' clock. We go three o'clock we walk into a wall!"

We are so gonna be late for dinner.

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Hope this sort of satisfies you guys. More soon! Well not very soon, but eventually soon!

Read and Review!


	10. Hug Thy Competitor

Hey! I am so terribly sorry about updating like a month later. I know I promised more chapters and sooner, and I actually promised. So no excuse is good enough for my lack of loyalty to my readers and I am terribly sorry about everything. I'm not defending myself, I'm just saying alot of things happened. I found a glitch in the storyline and needed to fix it so I tweaked the storyline a bit, so a lot of things are gonna appear so just be cool, and don't be like completely WTF when something odd comes up. (I'm trying my best!) Anyways. I hope not everybody is gone, and the people who are still there. I'm making this extra special for you. Sorry if it wasn't the epic meeting you guys were dreaming about. But really, it's not their big meeting. And I'm not making sense am I? Yeah thought so. Sorry. But anywayz, to the shoutouts!!

**Sarah:** Still though, without you, I'd be visually blind concerning Rose. So gracias, she's like a perfect fit. You were one of CS' first reviewers and Scorp and I are extremely grateful. So thank you! Oh and yeah, it can be Izzy or any other of the names I use in my author's notes, I'm not particularly picky. **Zee:** lol, I love it when people quote the lines. Lyra is like a Scorpius in training. Scary. Yeah, the Malfoy family sense is not much applied in a lot of fanfictions. Like Scorpius is always neglected and lonely.I wanted to inject a sort of normal happiness into his life. Sadly, Lyra's big entrance won't be until the next chapter. But I promise I'll make it extra long. Actually the line there came out wrong, and it's actually supposed to be "Okay, then, how about this side? To the right?" "Sure, Just one problem. We walk 3'o'clock, we walk into a wall." Because it's like right side is considered as 3 o clock. Yeah, major typo problem, I fixed it in the real chapter. Sorry about the confusion! **Jasmineflower27:** hehe, sorry. I knew you asked for an earlier chapter, but at least it's out now right? But thanks! Glad you liked it, it was meant to be like a teaser to like satisfy, and look it worked! Hahaha, read and find out, it's rather unexpected, if I do say so myself. Really weird and unexpected. The sequel is gonna have a lot of drama, and like revelations, I actually can't wait either, the trio's past is gonna come out.** HMMadewell**: You have no idea. Didn't the Malfoy's have like a chamber under the drawing room at one point? It must be a pretty big house to be able to make a room to hide a room. **Nickiegirl123:** Enjoy! Scorp says thanks, he made that joke himself. **Sidra112:** Hi! Thanks for the review! Yup that's Scorp, him and his loveably arrogant ways. Next chapter coming up soon! **Fake Empire:** Yay! A new one! Al loves it when someone mentions him, and I have to say that he's actually also slightl underappreciated as well. Thank you. **Beloved Dawn:** Welcome aboard, Matey! Thanks for reading!

Seriously you guys are the shizzam! (**Scorpius**: Excuse her language. **Rose:** Like yours is any better.) Your reviews always make me smile, and gives me the will to go on. And every one I read gives me inspiration. Sorry for being off for so long. Next chapter should be ready sooner. Love you all!

Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine, not mine. Not, not mine, not, not mine.

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"The spell text books are that way!"

"Um. No, it's not! I saw the sign yesterday, and I'm pretty sure it's that way."

"Ergh, Just listen to me! I've been coming to this bookstore ever since I was old enough to walk and I say it's that way."

"Yeah well, maybe they changed the bookshelf's categorizing, because I'm telling you we're going around in circles. We're already lost because of your directions, so why don't we start choosing different ones?"

"I'll tell you why. Because we're not lost and the spellbooks are that way!"

Ugh! Some one point me to the direction of a hard wood table. I want to kick it really hard right now. Or bang my head really hard against it, not sure which one. I'm that frustrated.

We have been arguing for a good 20 minutes and 37 seconds, standing at a fork in the bookshelf journey. (Yep, I actually counted.) So yes, it has been 20 minutes and 40 seconds since I have harbored any positive feelings for Yapping Ginger in front of me. Or is she a brunette? The light plays with her hair a lot, so I can never be too sure. It flashes like red, then brown, then red, and I was pretty sure I saw purple once, but that was probably from the book we were passing. Way disorienting. Her head is like a light show, seriously. Maybe all those lights are messing with my brain, because I am pretty sure we've been going around in circles being led by said person.

We've been walking around for the past half hour, and my feet were starting to ache as I started to realize that we've past this bookshelf before. And this one. And this one.

She's so irritating. She was supposed to know the way, She was supposed to be leading us in the direction of whatever place we're supposed to go. But she…..is not. She's so stubborn too, she won't just admit we're lost. And I'm usually pretty laid-back about people's sense of direction, seeing as I do not have any myself, but I have somewhere to be, food to eat, people to apologize to and other stuff on my daily agenda/stuff that bugs my conscience endlessly thus prompting me to do stuff I normally won't do. Yeah, real excited to do that list. Hint: sarcasm. But still, I made a plan, and hell, I am going to follow one of the few plans I ever made. And this little detour let me tell you, was not helping me follow my plan.

And okay, I also can't help that Rose gets under my skin. I used to think of her as some chick who was really hot and really headstrong. And I digged it. Until out came her boss-chick woman who argued and bossed you around and stuff, so in other words, I found out she had a personality. I wouldn't say it's a bad thing. Or straight away list it under a good thing either. Whatever, call me a shallow jerk (and you'd be rightful to do so.), but I just really can't make heads or tails about her. She intrigues me. A lot. I mean it's like she's never predictable. Is she nice? Is she not? Will she annoy me? Do I have to take a cold shower?

And I know, I'm not the best person to be judging her, seeing as I'm constantly on like a roller coaster every second. It's like, I'm crushing on her. Then, I hate her. She's awesome. Ugh, she's so annoying. I like her. Oh, wait, no I don't.

But then it's usually because she's so rollercoaster-y in the first place. Will she be gentle or sweet? Is she going to slap me in face?

The last one is my query exactly at this moment.

"We are in the middle of a friggin fork, Rosemary's baby! Just like 10 minutes ago, and just like the 10 minutes before that! Just admit it! We are lost! We've been choosing the right for 20 minutes now! And we've been going around in rounds! So, why not just admit you're wrong and pick the left turn?" I say crossly, throwing my hands up in the air, and glaring down at Rose.

But what I said must have set a real spark in her, because when the last sentence came out, she looked ready to murder me. So I'm guessing my comment really cheesed her judging by the fact her fingers twitched as if aching to wring them around my neck. I took a step back just, in case.

A total useless step if you ask me, because I had forgotten for a moment that she had working legs and taking a step towards me (Actually. She stumbled towards me. Now that my little love-spell was broken, I was beginning to see that Rose was actually a pretty clumsy person. She tripped a few times during our little walk. Even though, we're walking on a surface flatter than a pancake. I don't know why I haven't noticed it before.), she caught herself a foot away and glared at me with enough force to make even Dad notice if he was here. And that's saying something.

"I will not admit it! Because I am not wrong! This bookstore is huge! So don't get shirty with me because we're not instantly there!" Her eyes blazed with anger, and her now clenched fists shook, while her face turned a very impressive shade of red, almost like her hair. Scary sight, let me tell you.

Okay, first off, Woah. She looked ready to kill. Like really ready to tear my head out right of my shoulders. Her face was such a bright hue of red that I was surprised it didn't explode from the rush of blood to her face. The second thing is that as much as this girl is practically the human form of confusing (well, a little bit more so than the women population.), she seems extremely special, you know if special meant sensitive.

And I also want to keep all my limbs in their assigned places if you don't mind.

So that's why I decided to do some damage control, and quickly changed tracks. Don't look at me like that, you'd do the same thing in my position if you could see her.

"Geez, chillax! Look I'm just saying that, we're not getting anywhere with you leading the reigns. But since, you'd rather cut you own leg off than admit you're wrong. Why not have another way to prove who's right?" I resisted the urge to change the last few words into "to prove I'm right." and tried to say everything as calmly as I could, because like I said. I didn't want to upset the very sensitive Mount Fire Rose, and I could see that my choice of words weren't exactly calming her. Understatement of the week. Unless you want to be castrated before you hit the age of 20, then go ahead, be my guest. But I sure as hell am smart enough not to mess with a girl who's probably PMSing right now. She looked ready to rip my head off. Stepping back, I schooled my features into a challenging smirk and finished quickly. "How about we have a contest. You go right, and I go left." I am as smooth as she is a hot-head. Oh, how I flatter myself.

Tilting her head to her side, she folded her arms and contemplated the thought for a few seconds. Testy, testy, was what her posture said. Not exactly encouraging, but luckily her words made up for her posture.

"Go on, I'm listening." She finally replied, her narrowed eyes kind of threw me off a bit. But the red in her face was slowly dissipating. Whew! My limbs can rest, for now.

"Who ever finds it first sends red sparks or like a honk or something. I mean let's face it, you want to prove if you are right, and I want to prove that you aren't, and I am. Whoever wins, we still get the books right?" I added. Thankfully, her face wasn't red any more, and was toning down. Now it was a light pink. Man, women are temperamental creatures; you would not like to mess with one like ever. It looked like Rose changed moods more than she did her clothes.

Rose scrunched her nose and bit her lip nervously. (An action that made me almost miss the sentence she hesitently uttered.) "I don't think that's possible."

And why would it not? I wanted to ask. They're not gonna arrest teens for a little bit of underage magic. Sheesh, this chick needs to lighten up a bit. I stared at her face to see if she was joking or not, and saw her biting her nail, while her face was serious, worried and really, really cute.

I felt my face and um- another appendage grow really warm. Now why'd she have to do that? Oh come on, I thought I was past this stage already.

I am determined to focus this time though, and kept my gaze straight on her bracelet that was dangling from her wrist. It was pale green and rather oriental. And yes, surprise surprise, I know the word. Lyra likes to order Chinese food, so yeah figures. Okay, good, don't look anywhere else, just focus on the bracelet. Focus on your totally irrelevant thoughts.

And I'm rambling. Spiffing, really, just. You can thank my personality for that.

"Don't worry, they won't catch us. I mean, how can they? There are like 7 or more people in the store. Many of whom we can say cast the spell if officials come running. I mean, not that they would because I did a lot of spells before and I never got arrested or anything. And besides, what are they gonna do? Send us to jail? Not only are we minors, I'm also a foreigner, so the most they can do is deport me. And I'm too young for Arkham, so they'll probably just send me to juvie hall somewhere in Philly." Please someone stop me quickly. I frowned sheepishly and apologized for my word vomit. "Sorry, I ramble when I'm nervous, on edge or like motion sick. So yeah, um, stop me anytime. Like just start talking. Please."

Rose laughed at my last sentence and lowered her arm, so I was forced to look at her face and see that she was grinning full on out. There goes all my concentration.

"Alright then, since you asked. But I thought it was rather funny, hearing you go on like that. Actually, I wasn't worried about that; I was more worried about the fact that you don't have a wand. So that sort of makes it impossible to send up signals right? I mean, I just assumed that you don't have a wand because of what happened before. You don't have a wand, do you? " Rose's eyes shined with amusement. Hm, wasn't really expecting a speech in exchange of mine, but okay.

Oh. He he, whoops. I heard myself mutter an affirmative and reflexively looked down embarrassedly for some unknown reason. (I'm never going to speak more than 3 sentences at a time.)

After a few seconds of a somewhat rather painful silence she spoke up. "I will join your competition. But I want to change the rules around a bit." Man, that girl's got dramatic down to an art.

I mimicked her position and did the head-tilt, arm-fold thing but with my very own smirk. Even going farther and saying. "Go on, I'm listening." It was really easy to switch moods with this girl. I like it. At this moment.

Taking a deep breathe, she challenged me. "We have a time limit. 30 minutes maximum, nothing more. Whoever finds the book goes to the front of the store with two books, because one of us has to be right. And the loser has to come back when the time's up, empty-handed. That bit's for your sake, of course." Oh ha-ha, take another jab at my wandlessness, why don't you. No wand, so no other logical way to end it. Man, next time I'm tying that thing to me.

But besides, the banter and honey coated insults, they were pretty sound conditions, and the presentation was impressive too. I always loved it when the lady called the shots in a deliciously bossy way, without screaming her head off.

"Okay, you're on." I held out my hand, to confirm the deal. Taking my hand, she shook it for a few seconds, and I am proud to say I was able to break away at the right moment after the skin contact. Okay, maybe a moment after she tried to tug her hand free, but hey, it's still just a split second after.

"Don't worry, I won't rub it in too much when I'm right." I smirked at her. I could feel my competitiveness rise a little slightly at her retaliating words.

Rolling her eyes she snorted and said haughtily. "We'll see who's right, when I've got both books in my hand, you swot."

We both glared at each other. And I'm not sure if either of us were joking or not. At least I'm not the only taking this seriously.

Breaking our heated gaze, Rose looked away and moved to make her way towards her own aisle, but unfortunately her feet coordination is as bad as my ability to not get bruised, because she tripped on a stray pile of books.

Catching her around the shoulders almost reflexively (She tripped like 5 times on our journey so far. So that's about 5 times in the last 30 minutes. It's humanly possible, who knew?), I held on until she was steadily on her feet. Seriously this girl should like never walk into a ceramics store. I couldn't help smirk as she glared at her feet and grumbled a forced thank you before hurriedly walking on her way, her ears as red as her hair.

I think I annoyed her some more with my chortling, so I tried to stop and went to my section. But I was still grinning as I called out to her.

"Positions. Good to go?" I pretended to roll up the makeshift long sleeves of my already short sleeved shirt, and made sure my jacket was tightly knotted at my waist. But not too tight, don't want to suffocate the boys. After checking if everything was strapped in, I moved to the left side of the crossroad, and stepped into what I think is called the runner's pose.

Glancing at my red-haired opponent, and saw her take off her jacket and tie it around her waist as well. She was wearing a bright, orange and white Chudley Cannons striped jersey. The color clashed with her hair comically. Sweetly, but still a lot more comically. But then as I studied it a bit more closely I was kind of weirded out to see that it was worn inside out. I didn't know whether to laugh or gawk, because it was near impossible to do both at the same time.

A no-no for the fashion police for sure. Or at least the ones in New York, I don't now what's hot and what's not in this world, I mean, country. Rose grabbed a (What I can assume is very, very stretchy.) scrunchie from her pocket, she tied her auburn shrub-like mess so that it rested like a very large cloud at the nape of her neck. If the cloud was frizzy and reflected light like a mirror.

But what was really unexpected, was her little routine after tying the explosion that is her hair. She started doing stretches. Like really, pull arms and leg up kind of thing. I was kind of wondering why she didn't just drop down and do push ups. I mean, I was sort of even expecting it after her whole exercise.

Dude, she was buff. Or she was really serious about not losing.

Most likely the latter. I really can't imagine her lifting weights, as curvy as she was.

That is determination, right there. Uh, kinda freaky to be honest. Impressive, but still freaky.

She looked up after her warm-up exercise, and looked at me questioningly, frowning. "Why are you staring at me, as if I just grew another head? Do I have something on my face?" Her hand flew up to clutch her jaw and roamed her forehead. For some reason, when I tried to open my mouth to reply, nothing came out. So I just shook my head, and used one of my itching hands to close my jaw under the cover of scratching my jaw (smooth.) Dude, what the hell is wrong with me?

Staring at me weirdly (who can blame her?), Rose shrugged and resumed her cat stance, most probably trying to ignore my gawking. It really amazes me that she isn't running away from me in pure fear and terror. I mean, I'm almost on the verge of running away from myself. You know, if it was humanly possible.

"Ready," Rose called, her eyes fixed on her side of the aisle. "Set…." She trailed off and got into a running position. I slipped back down, and got ready. Rose looked like she meant business.

"Go!" I yelled, and we were both off like a bullet in opposite directions.

"I'll wait for you at the finishing line. Don't take too long, yeah." She yelled before, taking a sharp right and disappearing completely from view before I could retort.

Oh, it's on, babe. It's on.

But something from our conversation was still nagging at the corners of my mind.

"What the hell is shirty?"

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Seriously, what the hell is shirty? Is it some British slang for something else that rhymes with it?

Really these people are going to hear a lot of 'Say what?s' from me, if they don't start explaining their vocabulary. Or in any case hand me a dictionary. Because, I'm not sure if anyone told them, but they're English is not normal.

I had stopped running after a few turns, and was now running my hand over spines of numerous books. If I see another book for the next year, it would be too soon. And I was coming across really weird books. There was one called "What to do When you get a Wizard in Bed." Yeah, just hearing the title is pretty cringe worthy. And I know I've had my fair share of cringe-worthy books. I am a red-blooded male teenager after all. But the cover itself freaked me out a bit. The diagrams looked damn right painful. I hastily put the book down a few seconds after picking it up and slipped it into the back of the bookshelf. If I can't burn it, then maybe I can hide it from innocent eyes. I'm doing humanity a favor, trust me.

Then I realized after a while of turning around and around (I was starting to see double everything.) I had to finally admit to my utter frustration, I was undeniably lost.

And this time alone. Crap. I hate crossroads. Seriously why do we even have them? And why do they so many of them? If there's going to make forks every three feet, they could at least put like a 'You are here.' Sign and map. Is it really that hard?

Merlin, I guess it's my fault. I shouldn't have been such a cocky piece of work. Then maybe Rose would have seen what an awesome person I was, forget all about the book and we would both be able to run away together to Canada. Yeah (I snort.) and then it'll all be ruined when Dad sends the entire Auror division in New York, after a day or two.

That part about Dad, I'm not kidding. It's happened before. Yeah, don't ask.

After declaring defeat in the face of endless row after row of bookshelves, I finally decided to actually search for the book instead of searching for a way out. So in other words, my conscience had enough of my whining and threatened me with public embarrassment unless I started doing something productive. Pushy moron…that I am.

Grade 5 Standard book of Spells, come on, come one. Geez, it shouldn't be that hard to look for it. I am really starting to hate that book. I thought as I came up with another empty shelf. Stupid book. Stupid Writer. I bet Miranda Goshawk is an unhappy, spinster, who has only cats as her companions. Stupid contest.

Really, it's Rose's fault. If she wasn't so damn snooty, and confrontational and just so _her,_ then maybe the jerk-side of Scorpius wouldn't have come out. And maybe we'd be able to have a proper conversation instead of either flirting or fighting. It's like we can't do anything normally. She's stubborn, frank and an unbearable know-it-all. And you know why else? She always thinks she's right! She can never just admit it and say 'Yeah, whoops a daisy, sorry about that. Hahaha" and then giggle like all the other girls. No she has to either defend herself, or just ignore me. It drives me absolutely crazy! She's just so temperamental, I have to actually work to read her.

It sucks. She has a personality.

So yeah, that explains why I'm actually trying hard to find that book. So I can rub it in her face. I know I said that I wouldn't, but hey, it's me. I break promises all the time. I know I'm going against all gentlemen codes, by wanting to one-up a girl and all. And you probably think I'm being a total turd to be into this contest thing in a serious way.

But if you had met Rose from my particular position, then you'd not only encourage me, but point me in the right direction and lend me a map.

And besides, so what if I'm competitive? Okay, really competitive. (Like really, ask anyone who even remotely knows me. I'm not the hardest worker, but I can't refuse a challenge, especially when it comes from fiery, big red-headed, British know-it-alls.) It's the 21st century, girls and guys are equal, last time I checked. (And I have before, trust me. When I'm into something, I am really into it.)

And I know I probably gave you the impression that I'm like a total charmer. -_more like kiss-up_- but double-dare me, or god-forbid, challenge me and my game face is on.

It's one of my best qualities. Says my Quadpot coach.

My ex girlfriends would beg to differ though.

So you can see now, why I was energetically searching every shelf. Oh, and I also didn't want to have a gloating Rose when I got to the counter. I don't think my ego could take another bruise that big. And of course, I can't stand the sight of losing.

Stupid competitiveness in me. Call me a total Neanderthal, I won't care. I've heard a lot worse.

And back to searching. Seeing as my left hand was less stiff and sore as the other one, I used my left to examine the books, running my non-bruised fingers over the leather back spine. But me, being my unfortunate self, managed to graze my hand at a particularly vicious book. That bites. Need I say more?

Okay, I'm going to be an adult about this and not vow death upon anyone. I'm going to be smart. I'm going to be grown-up. I'm going to be- **_The writer of Care for Magical Creatures is a sadistic jerk_**-mature.

See I can be a mature teenager.

Any lesser man would cry in pain. Thankfully, that is not me. I have gotten a large amount of ass-whooping, and it takes a lot to make me tear up.

So that is why I swore in both languages I knew (A lot of the Spanish words I know, aren't what you'd call decent. That's what you get when you put a teenage boy and a Spanish dictionary in the same study hall.) and kicked the wooden wall in aggravation.

Neat move by the way, because now not only was I practically awkwardly trying to cradle my hands while doing my best to make it possible, I was also now hopping on one leg.

Cursing angrily at all manufactures of man-eating books and solid oak wood shelves, I felt myself flush in frustration and also probably with the exertion of jumping up and down with one foot in the air.

So yeah, what a beautiful sight I must have been. Standing on one foot, while very awkwardly cradling my other foot in my palms and wrists, as my face was probably the color of, well something really pink. B-e-a-u-tiful.

"Geez, are you guys trying to kill me up there?" I muttered to no one in particular. It probably doesn't help build the collective opinion of my sanity, but it makes me feel better.

Glancing around, I saw the empty aisles, and thought that now would be a pretty good time to rest, and dropped like a stone on the ground. Really this sucks major eggs. I had no wand, three out of four of my limbs were sore, and I was going to lose to a girl. And not just any girl. The type of girl who's not going to let me forget it. Not to mention, I was without a wand, handicapped, and lost in the middle of, what I believe, is a never ending maze.

Why God? Why me? Seriously, what did I ever do to anger you and your archangels up there?

"And who are you talking to m'boy?" I suddenly heard an old man ask from beside me. He scared me half a mile up. Where the heck did he come from? It looked as if he just appeared out of nowhere.

My heart was still racing from the shock, (I didn't realize that someone was around to hear me, heck I didn't even know I said anything out loud.) but I was able to see the old guy in front of me. A little wrinkled in some places, but looked about 50 or 60. The Dinosaur looked really familiar, and for some reason, something was nagging in the back of my mind that wouldn't go away. I'm supposed to ask him something that he supposed to know.

Still staring at the old man in front of me with wide eyes, I placed a fist on my chest to check if my heart was still in my ribcage, and replied pointlessly. "Woah, you scared there."

"Yes, I see that." He observed form the top of his glasses. What he was actually thinking was 'Way to state the obvious, el capitaine.' But instead he finished it with a "So can I help you with anything?"

That's when it hit me. The old man was the bookkeeper. Oh! No wonder he looked so familiar. I saw him before. Yes, lady luck has finally fallen for me! I'm gonna win this bet.

I was already thinking about what to say when I rubbed my victory in Rose's face, when I asked the bookkeeper where he kept all the all the charms textbooks. So I didn't really process his reply for a while.

But then he said it again, and I couldn't help gape and repeat it, aghast. (Yeah, I used the word aghast. Bet you thought I didn't have much up there, huh.)

"You don't know where it is?!"

The bookkeeper idiot nodded his head solemnly, and explained that his grandson had just joined the family business of book shopping a few hours ago as a summer job thing, and re-categorized everything. So the old man was left to go around the store and just lead all the lost lambs back to the front of the store where his grandson could show them where the books were. Because apparently the Bookkeeper was still learning the new shelving system.

Geez You'd think he'd be fast seeing as he collects tomes for a living, but no, the system is just too complicated. He should fire his grandson then hit himself on the head once that's done. What kind of person just let's some inexperienced dolt re-arrange all the books in a few minutes? The grandfather of the dolt, that's who.

After a while, my anger drained away, and I assured the poor guy that it was alright. Really unfortunate, but alright. It's not his fault his grandson was stupid. (Well not completely his fault. The father is more to blame here on producing such a half wit moron.)

I did however let my disappointment show a little. I mean, come on, I'm not a saint. I'm pretty upset right now as a consumer, so I have every right to complain. Not so far as to like throw a tantrum, I tried to mask my grumpiness, by giving him a sort of helpless shrug-grin-nose-scrunch thing.

"Oh well, it's not your fault. I mean, you didn't ask for a whole new system. Real pity though." I sighed, and widened my eyes a bit. Using a well-practiced sad little grin. "I was sort of really looking forwards to picking up this book, I've been waiting for. But I guess I could always pick it up some other time." I changed my tone in the last sentence to the one that I saved for special occasions. Parent Teacher meetings, 'Sleepover' permissions, explaining the possession of certain drinks. The woe is me, yet still honey-coated, good-boy, voice. Years of experience got it honed to an easily applied persona. And yes okay, I know I stretched the truth a bit when told him that I was very eager to get this new book that I've been saving up ages for. (haha, even I can't fully defend myself from that one when it's such a total flat out lie.)

So yeah, I just laid the guilt on pretty thick, and after a minute or so of telling him how much I wanted to get this special book for my sister's birthday, I finally saw enough on the guy's face to know that he had he had fell for it. Hook, line, sinker. Damn, I am good. The guy was wracked with pity and by the end of my sob story, he was practically cursing Percius, his Grandson and asking me to allow him to lead me back. Okay so not really cursing his grandson, but he seemed pretty close to it. Like tip of his tongue close.

I smiled graciously, like the nice, polite kid I was pretending to be, and accepted his offer. I think the outfit sort of helped too, because well, no one would suspect anything bad from a guy wearing a nice, fitted shirt and well tailored jeans. Like my Dad always says, (Insert nasal, british accent.) 'presentation is everything.' Or maybe my mom said that, I honestly don't know which one, my Dad's pretty metro once I think about it.

Changing topics, I asked him about his life and heard his bio all the way to the front of the shop. He had eagerly told his life story to me, and all I had to do was say a few words. I obviously won't do it (I don't have enough spite in me. Thank you very much.) but I bet I could have him running back to Leaky and fetching my wand if I asked nicely.

I couldn't help feel kind of powerful then, and really smart. Nothing boosts a guy's ego like a little influence. But I tried ignored the stab of remorse in my chest from playing people like that. I want to win this little contest. Winning is fun. And besides, I'm not totally using him. I was actually going to get Lyra a book (a dictionary.) for her birthday. (In December.). I mean I wasn't heartlessly playing him or anything. The old man seemed really embarrassed about the whole ordeal and I just helped the situation along. I was really listening to him talk, and even shared the summary of my life and some eloquent details about New York. So I don't think it fully counts as manipulating, I just stretched the truth a bit at the start to get the ball rolling. And what was I supposed to do after that? I couldn't say no to his offer to accompany me to the front of the bookshop. That would have been rude.

It's just manners.

That's what I tried to convince myself the whole entire time I was talking with Alfonso, the bookkeeper.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"what the hell is shirty?"

I heard his loud voice exclaim dubiously as I rounded the corner. And I wasn't sure whether to laugh at his complete off-the-point-ignorance, or cringe at the words. But I half-doubt I can do the latter seeing as he said it in such an incredulously innocent way.

Honestly, I almost felt like turning around on him and scolding him for that. I never really was one swear words. So growing up around James and Fred? Well, that's like a vegetarian working at a butcher shop.

But at the same time I can't help but grin when I try to imagine his befuddled face. And yes, I have to admit I'm mostly grinning and blushing, because he is very cute. He's got grey eyes that look rather innocent, a regal nose, and to a certain extent girly lips (I am rather jealous.). But I can't really be sure about all those features, because his hair always falls into his features, and he flicks it away only to have it return to it's previous position before. So he's not really the perfect faced boy…not like Ian. But no, I won't dwell on that sore subject. It'll only make me sullen and we can't have that, can we? Tripping over a book on the floor, -what's the point of having shelves if they're just going to leave it on the floor?- I caught myself before I hit the ground, mildly cussing my luck.

I knew I should have brought my lucky jade ring. The one that Dom and Lily gave me as a birthday present for my 13th birthday when I first discovered that wearing you birth stones bring good luck. Mum made me go to the pet store last week to get a potion for Crookshanks, and over there a black cat crossed my path. So I've been holding on to as many lucky things I can fit into my jeans pocket. And well seeing as I practically stumble through life a lot, I need as much luck as I can get. Don't tell anyone, but that's kind of why I'm obsessed with muggle superstitions. That and the fact that they're just so fun to follow.

So back to Scorpius. Honestly that's his name. Sad really when you think about it, he must have a normal sounding last name to at least make up for the first. He's a very much on the tall side, almost as tall as dad I think. So whenever I try to get a closer look at his face to see to what extent his beauty is, all I get is a very good view of the underside of his chin and lips. If I happen to stand close to him, but then if I'm not then whenever I look at him, I have to cran my neck a bit to see his eyes. And I'm not short. I'm taller than Lily by 4 inches.

Granted, Lily is a year younger than me, but it won't be fair to compare my height to the other giants I call the rest of my cousins. Rox is a year older; she has a twin brother, Fred. And both share the tall gene, seeing as they share every other physical trait as well. Dom is in my year, but she's part veela, so that doesn't count. They're meant to be beautiful, tall and skinny. And Victoire is just the same, only older, with her beautiful hair, beautiful eyes and beautiful Teddy stealing hands. Molly is about 3, so she hasn't had her growth spurt. And Lucy, well I don't like her that much so let's not mention her here.

And the boys, well that's not fair to compare either because they grow like trees. Al is so tall now that I actually have to tip-toe to hug him.

So that makes Lily the only worthy and fair candidate/competitor, and I'm 4 inches taller than her. So hah!

It doesn't matter that much, really. I still can't see his face. And it won't do any good if he does turn out to be very handsome. I won't fall for him.

Because as pathetic I am, I'm still hung up on another boy. My ex to be exact. My lying, cheating ex. He did say we were on a break before that happened though, so I can't be sure. I think I'll ask Dom again. But gods, I do miss him. He's one of James' best mates, so I thought I could trust him. He was just so nice, and when he told me he loved me it sounded like he meant it. And it's really confusing. He just up and said "Rose, I think we need some space to think. I think we need a break." And I don't know how to react to that. Was I mad? Of course I was, I spent a good section of my summer, pranking him with Fred. Not to the point of anything petty. I don't have enough vixen in me to do something remotely girlishly wild. Am I still mad? I don't know. I think I am. Part of me wants him back, because well I miss him. He's the first boyfriend I ever had. Another part of me wants to get him to beg me back, just for having my feelings broken. But, I've never been hatefully vindictive, so it's not the side of me I know and trust very well. So the usual tough Rose is having a complex. I just don't know what to feel. It's so muddled, and I never been like that. Usually I'm just yes or no. Good or bad. Angry or not. Ugly or beautiful. The stuff in between don't bother me that much. Dom and Lils would accuse me of seeing too many things in a very non-girlish way. They even go to the point of pointing out that Al has more emotional range than I do. And now I wish I did have a lesser emotional range. Because now I'm starting to feel, and it's weird. I feel sad, and vindictive, heartbroken, and sadly still so foolishly in love. And it's just not me. I always knew I felt of course, but well I can't exactly put it in writing. I have my mom's feelings, and my Dad's ignorance.

Eh, too much Dr. Phil. I'm getting a headache. Back to safer topics. Scorpius. I may be pathetic in more ways than one. But I always appreciated beauty. I really do wonder what his last name is. Maybe I can invite him for an outing with Al. Because one on one trips would qualify as a date. And I don't really know that much about him except that he's obviously not from here,-have you heard the way he speaks,- and that he's funny in a boisterous way.

And charming. I have to admit. Very charming. There were moments back there when I actually felt myself blush, because he looked at me from under his lashes. And he also has this strange thing where he's just so open. For example, he called me 'sweetheart' and yes, I come from a famously good family, and people call me that almost on regular basis. But he barely knew me, and he managed to say it as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It just rolled of his tongue, and it hardly sounded like he was hitting on me at all. Well maybe just a little. I bet he's the type who just hugs people when they only met for like 5 minutes for no reason at all. And I love those types of people, I'm one of them.

But then he turns into a total wanker. He has problems. He's arrogant, and aloof. And those kinds piss me off to now end at times. He talks to me sometimes as if I'm just some airhead who'll take his crap. So he obviously doesn't know me, because I don't take crap from people that often when I've got a clear head. He's hypocritical, he's headstrong, he's blunt, he's insufferable, he acts like a know-it-all, he's cynical, and at those times he's as confusing as Ian is to me.

And he zones out a lot too. He stares at my face a whole lot of times, and I'm beginning to think that he thinks that I look familiar to him. Get in line, pal. Being the only daughter of Hermione and Ron Weasley instantly does that.

But he really zones out a lot, which is very strange, because he'll do it when I'm speaking and then quickly snap back to reality when it's his turn. And what's annoying is that he'll just start talking as if nothing happened. And I can never question him about it, because well, I get distracted by whatever retort he says. (For some reason, he can manage to have a counter for almost everything I say. But he forgets to bring his wand? Really strange. It must be one of those days for him. Or he's just really unlucky.)

And he says "yeah well" way too many times. I don't think it's grammatically correct at this point.

I bet on my left leg he's a muggleborn though. I haven't seen him in school, so I don't think he's a Hogwartian. And of course the accent, it slurs at times and sounds almost like the people from the old, black and white, mafia-gangster movies Granddad Weasley sometime makes us watch when we're over at the burrow. And he made a muggle movie reference. And not nicely, I might add! Rosemary's baby…that git. Like I wouldn't know.

And what's so confusing is that I have the feeling that he's very much of a decent bloke. Like he puts up these walls to impress people. But he should know that his 'real' side is by far, so much nicer of a sight. And I know he has that side.

Because he is very sweet when he doesn't know it. Sometimes when he's embarrassed or nervous, I can see the 'bad' act crumbling away, and I can easily see which side I like better. And it's definitely not the egotistical one.

Like when he was shaking my hand and looking at something in my direction with a far off look in his face, then he jumped back like there was a fire and just started apologizing profusely. He looked so sincere and sweet and concerned as if he was afraid I contracted some disease from him hand. And then he did this sort of embarrassed shrug thing where he ducked his head and sort of scratched the back of his neck nervously with a scrunched nose and a sheepish smile. It was so adorable. I wanted to bite him.

Did I really just think that? Okay, passing on please…I don't like him in that way. I don't like him in that way. I don't like him in that way. Bad things about him. Bad things about him.

He's very brash! And he's just so bloody annoying, sometimes! (sorry mum. A bit too much there. ) And I don't even know when to expect it. He'll be all nice and charming one moment, and then he'll put on the tough guy act which I'll always snipe at. It's amazing that he knows what nerve to flick, what spot to hurt, and doesn't even relish in pissing me off like normal bullies. And he's such a prick! Accusing me of being wrong, I bet he hasn't even been here for ages, if not ever. This place is my haven. It's my safety zone. I know it better than most people in my family. I know it better than the back of my hand.

So, now where was I again?

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The bookkeeper's grandson was nowhere to be found. For some reason, I can't say or think the name without snorting in mirth. So Percius is going to be the bookkeeper's grandson from now on. It's a pretty funny name, you know once you get over mine.

We where standing right in front of the register, after about 20 minutes of picking our way through the mass of books and was met with an empty counter. Man, was Alfonso pissed _off. _

He was brandishing his cane angrily, and even tried to accio his grandson a few times. But I guess, either the guy was really heavy or the spells didn't work on people related to you because we were still alone at the register.

Well no wonder the line was pretty elongated. There was no cashier, and who were they supposed to buy from. The other employees were probably deeper in the bookstore trying to find the missing ones and bring them back to civilization. They could have summoned posters or maps or something, but the books were just rearranged a mere 3 hours ago.

The fates aren't that kind to Alfonso either. Poor guy.

Speaking of which, the old man turned to me and said with so much regret I wanted to hug him. "I'm really sorry, lad. But I have to take care of this disaster." His wrinkled eyes were screwed up with contrite and his mouth was set in a grim, white line.

Oh shoot. Now how am I supposed to find the book now, was what I was thinking about as I masked my disappointment with a nonchalant grin.

"Hey, no problem." I put my hands up, palms front in a sort of shrug. "I'll just get my books some other time."

And with one last apologetic look, Alfonso turned around and walked back to the counter to brave the crowd. What a courageous soul he was, braving the masses like that. And he's like 90 so it's like totally not good for his health.

When I mirrored his action and faced the forest of bookshelves, I couldn't help but cringe. How the hell was I supposed to look for the books now? I couldn't go back there without losing my way, and it wasn't like I had bread crumbs or a piece of string.

Maybe there was a way to bring the books to me. I mean it's not like Rose made a specific rule about that kind of thing. But what do I do? What can I do? Come on ideas, develop already.

Half formed ideas started to form and my mind was filled with different kind of scenarios, most of which included me with a wand, hexing Rose into oblivion for making up this whole thing. Yeah, I suggested the contest in the first place, but that was only to like shut her up before she maimed me or something.

I mean, It's her fault I have like what? 40 minutes, to go back to Leaky, get ready and change.

Wait, Oh crap! Did I just say 40 minutes? What time is it? I frantically searched for any sort of clock or something and found one hanging on the wall. Reading the stars that served as dials and saw that yup, I did have only a quarter of an hour to go back before Mom came.

Double crud squared.

I paced back and forth muttering to myself, about all the things I could possibly do to get out of here attracting more curious glances my way. Maybe I could like call out her name or something. But then there's no guarantee, she'll answer back. Maybe I could just bail. But no, that's too cold. I could just leave like a message with Alfonso, telling her to tell he next red-head with blue eyes with the name Rose that I split. He does owe me in a way. Sucks though, I forfeit. Translated, it pretty much means I lose. And let's face it, losing is one of the things I totally hate, alongside Math and Spiders. I shuddered that the thought.

God, I hate spiders.

I reluctantly settled on the last option, I strode up to Alfonso. The poor guy was elbow-high in books, so I wasn't sure when to make my entrance. I mean I can't like drag him away and order him to take a note. And judging by the little pieces of scrap parchment littering his desk, I doubt he'll notice if I left a little memo beside his wand that lay on the counter.

That's when I got an idea. Total lightbulb head moment. Like I said before, Rose didn't state a specific rule about me not being able to bring the books to me. She didn't actually tell me that I couldn't, I don't know, say _charm_ the books here. Technicalities: a manipulative man's one true foolproof way of winning. Man, I would rule the Ministry Law department.

_You really are Draco's son._

_**I violently dislike you.**_

But there was just one problem. How was I supposed to ask for his wand? Can I just like grab it and go?

I mean yeah, we did bond over by the books, but I don't think I know him that well enough to ask for it. So that's why I found myself inching towards it slowly, like a panther stalking his prey, and when Alfonso's back was turned, I pounced. Grabbed it, like snake, from the counter and sprinted away with a cheetah's speed, a good 5 bookshelves away to hide myself beneath the dense collection of tomes from probing eyes like a bat shirking from sunlight. And that's enough animal analogies for me for the next century or so.

But yeah, that should take care of any intrusive strangers and nosey, curious minds.

Technically I didn't steal anything. I'm gonna give it back right after, so the thought of it didn't bother me that much. Besides, I've done worse. And gotten away with it. So yeah don't expect me to start crying with guilt over an old man's borrowed wand. And yes, it's borrowed, I like my wand. I don't need another that's probably thrice as old as I am.

Peeking my head out just a few inches to glance back at Alfie, I was satisfied to see that he was still buried under orders and that there was absolutely no one within 5 feet of me in about every direction. Perfect. (cue sinister smile.)

_Perfect conditions for cheating, eh?_

It's not cheating, I tried to reason with myself. She didn't specifically say anything about no spells. So it's not cheating. And besides, even if it is, all's fair right? At this point anyway. I need to find that book because I need to get out of here. I only have like 20 minutes to get back and ready for my tortu- I mean, dinner with the granfolks. Nice save. Dorkhead.

_Excuses, excuses. If there's one thing you're good at, it's hiding behind reasonable lies. You are a petty, petty boy. _

_**You know what, why don't you just shut up! This is my brain! I have the right to like listening to it!**_

Sorry about that. Me and my brain always have our little spats, they usually end with me telling um-It to get lost. Yeah, I know. Great comebacks: sarcasm. I can't help my lameness, it's like my inner 10 year old just pops out and attacks in the mere presence of that stupid cricket-like conscience. I wish I had a mental bug-swatter, you know if just slapping it would work. But I know it won't work, because a small swat isn't gonna get rid of it. I have a feeling not even magic can remove it. Something among the lines of a nuclear explosion might, though.

I gripped the wand tighter on my right hand. It was kind of strange using another person's magical stick of wood. It felt kind of wrong. And I didn't mean anything wrong in that context. Nothing perverted like that, freaks. I meant it felt wrong in the sense that I was using someone else's hand.

When I first got my wand, Cassis (The name of the wand owner and consequently, the name of the store. Yeah, go figure, right?) told me that the wand was supposed to feel like an extension of your own arm. It's supposed to feel like your hand wants to be with the wand. And then he told me some other mumbo-jumbo wand chooses the wizard, and stuff like that.

But yeah, with my hazel wood wand, it felt right. Like whenever I held it, it felt like both my hand and my wand were rejoicing because they were together. It felt connected. That's how it's supposed to feel.

But this, this felt distant. It felt odd, like I was using my toes to count. I still felt like I could do stuff, but it didn't feel like I was meant to do it with that.

It was weird. But necessary.

Waving the wand around a bit, I did some simple spells to see if it would work, because the last thing I wanted was to be sitting around waiting for a couple of books that aren't coming. That would be just stupid.

A few sparks came out, as I meant it to after I muttered the incantation which proved that a simple summoning spell would pretty much work. Expelling a deep breathe, I faced the direction in which the forest of books lay and said in an audible voice. "Accio spellbooks."

And then I waited. Damn, I really need to better estimate how long these stuff are gonna take, because I'm gonna be seriously late and if there's something me, my Dad and my grandfather have something in common (oh, the horror.) that is tardiness. And man was I gonna be tardy.

Laughing slightly at the last sentence in my head, I absent-mindedly scratched my neck and tapped my foot as I impatiently waited for the books to fly in. I heard nothing unusual. The air buzzed with the usual mild chatter and rustling of books. Like a lot of it as if someone put a sonorous charm on the books so that every time they rustled it sounded like a dozen pages were being moved.

And I know this is a bookstore, so I'm supposed to expect to hear some pages being flipped. But really, don't people know how to turn a page without having to alert the friggin National Auror department? It sounded like a swarm of bees…approaching.

Oh crap.

I jogged over the end of the bookshelf and was silently praying for it to not be what I thought it was. But no luck, because the Gods can never just let me go out of a store in England unscathed. I know I should have been more specific instead of just yelling out spellbooks, but what am I supposed to say? 'Accio 2 of Miranda Goshawks Standard Book of spells Grade 5, uh please? No fries.'

I'm not ordering in Taco Bell.

Aw geez, I stepped into the middle of the aisle and saw a sight that made my heart rate go up. What looked like half a bookshelf worth of books flying towards me from the end of the aisle at an incredible speed. And they didn't show any sign of stopping just because an overly tall kid was standing in their path. Not wanting any of the books to start attacking civilization (There were like 20 people like a row away.) I mindlessly started flapping my arms wildly to try and sort of stop some of the books in case they had half a mind and knew that they were going to crash into something very much alive and teenage. Panic often overrides my common sense, can you tell?

Darn it, I forgot the stopping spell. Was there even a stopping spell in this case? This is one of those moments where I wish I listened in class. I could feel fear grip me at the sight of about 30 or so books sped closer and closer. I don't think even long-sleeves are going to hide the collision bruises. Those are some pretty heavy looking books.

"Uh, stop! Halt! Down boys!" No effect, they just came flapping closer and closer, like bats about to descend on me. Thinking quickly, I suddenly was very aware of the working wand in my hand. Oops, silly me. The sudden fear of death must have short circuited my logic. Raising it in record time I was only half conscious of me roaring. "Protego!"

The books slammed into the invisible shield, a couple feet away from me, and dropped to the floor lifelessly. I would have laughed at the sight of the books slammed face first into the shield like birds into a wall. You know, if I wasn't as shocked and freaked out of my pants. (Figure of speech. Nothing came out. Thank God.) Damn that was crazy close. I would have been clobbered by books and that would be a pretty funny way to die. And pathetic, don't forget pathetic.

Cautiously taking off the spell (it took me quite a while, because it was a pretty strong spell, if I do say so myself.) I nudged it with the sole of my sneakers, in case they like came back to life and started hailing me with pages or something. (I have bruises. I don't need paper cuts.)

After concluding that I was safe, I stooped down and picked up about two copies of the blue hardback books. I was in the middle of shoving the remaining stock down in the nearest aisle, when I heard a pair of footsteps and an inaudible curse. By the sound of someone stumbling, I could easily identify the sound of owner of the voice. Great timing, by the way Rose, I couldn't do it better myself. Or if I did, it would probably involve me violently rolling down the staircase or something else as unfortunate. I wouldn't put it past the Gods.

Kicking the remainder of the books aside, I made sure none of them were lying astray and looked up just in time to see Rose stumbling out of a row of books in a flurry of auburn, blue, white and orange. Not bad, I'd say about a 6 overall in wipeage. I grinned at her slightly more disheveled form, all my past anger faded. I don't know, it must have been the sight of her looking as if she just went through a dragon pen but I just couldn't stay mad. Her bright auburn hair was as frizzy as ever, her cheeks practically stained red, and she looked like she ran all the way. She looked like worse than what I went through.

When she caught sight of me though, I was really surprised to see her double over, with her hands on her knees, panting for breath. Woah, did she seriously run all the way here?

I walked hurriedly over to her and laid a hand on her heaving back. What was wrong with her? Was she alright? She was gasping for breath and she seemed to be in pain. I felt panic, concern, and worry well up inside me.

"Rose, are you okay? What's wrong?" I tried to catch a glimpse of her face and tried to smooth her wild hair away from her face. (Channeling the inner Astoria.) I was practically crouching down now, because well, she was like a foot shorter than me when she was her full height. (Man, either she's insanely short, or I'm just really tall.) So doubled over, it was pretty hard to reach her standing. "Rosie, sweetheart, what happened? Did you run all the way over here? Sit down, it'll probably be easier to catch your breath." I tried to steer her to a rather large pile of books a few feet away, but she waved me off. She was starting to freak me out, and it wasn't the angry type of freak out either.

Yeah, I know I can be a total dickhead. But inside I'm a pretty caring guy. I do have a 10 year old sister, after all. And though sometimes it seems like I'm kind of heartless, I am not. My friends actually tell me that I'm really considerate, when I try to be. I mean, I don't charm and butter my way into every conversation, but I can be pretty caring when I want to. My list of ex's isn't that long because of how I hot I look.

It does help a lot though.

And I also have some female friends who go to me for comfort from a male perspective, and also most of the male population who are friends with me as well. I'm not setting myself up as a saint or anything, because I'm not the best boyfriend out there, but I do know how to be able to sincerely care for people. My mom, Dad, and Ly are living testaments to that. Oh and also about four fifth's of the entire population of MAHS and about half of New York and some other places. Oh and now, Al too, I guess.

"I-I, Ya-You," She panted weakly, her breathing was coming out a little bit more smoother than a few minutes ago. But that's not really saying much. Rose seemed to almost have burst a lung before or something.

"What about me?" I asked as gently as I could, while rubbing her soothingly on the back, like how my friends would do when I threw up after too much drinking. It was practically the same position. I even used the voice I reserve for a sick grandma, or a crying Ly. "What is it? Do you want me to call for someone? Get you a glass of water? What do you want to tell me?"

She swallowed, and was slowly regaining her much needed composure. I can't tell you how relieved I was to see that some oxygen was getting into her.

"Hey are you alright? What did you want to tell me?" I asked, as she hung her head and started taking slower breaths of air. "Y-y-you…"

Get me a glass of water? Find me a mattress? Kiss you? I'm all for the last one by the way.

"Maybe you shouldn't say anything just yet. Like catch your breath before you start bossing me around." I said, truly concerned. I couldn't see her face, because although I swept it back before, she was still facing the floor. Rose seemed to be finally catching her much needed breath. She was breathing pretty hard again, and it took me a few seconds to realize that she was trying to say something.

Okay fine then, don't take my advice. But if you're gonna be that way, at least say it already.

"Y-y-y-yo-you,"

"Yes…go on I'm listening." Okay that came out harsher than I intended to.

She slowly stooped to pick something off the ground, and before I could figure out that it was two blue books, she had straightened up and started hitting me over the head with it. And pretty hard too! Ouch! Hey what was that for? I couldn't say anything either, because I was beyond shocked. Oh and she also managed to hit me on the mouth, when I opened it. Ow! Geez! This woman is crazy!

She's completely insane! Out of her mind! I was still crouching down, so she had easy access, now that I was in the risk of toppling over any second. So Rose had not only height in her advantage, she had me in a vulnerable position, seeing as my head was pretty much exposed. And she wasn't stopping, as she continued to slam the books into every inch of me she could reach. And damn it fucking hurt!

"You, big, fat cheater!" Rose yelled loudly for a girl who was just struggling for breathe about 10 seconds ago. Her face was still bright red and kind of sweaty, while her hair looked like a big giant ball of wiry copper. Or maybe that was just a trick of light, because I only had a brief glimpse of her face before she started smacking me over the head with what felt like two pounds of very solid, stacked paper. Ow, geez, way to kill the mood!

Oh, so that's why! She must have found out somehow. But how in the world did she find- Ow, she just hit me over the head! And in the sensitive spot on my head where I walked headfirst into a wall.

"Oh my God! What the hell?! Stop attacking me, damn it!?" I yelped out as, I put up my arms in an attempt to ward off the blows. The books and wand lay on the floor, from when I dropped it to shield my face.

Ouch! Ouch! And double ouch! Geez, she's lost it! She was shrieking so shrilly, only dogs and bats could understand at this point. It was really hard, but I was able to catch the words, broke the rules and cheater a lot in the midst of it. And now I was pretty sure I was bruised in uncountable places. By a chick with a couple of books! Ow!

Rose is gonna kill me with a book! I just narrowly escaped 30 books mauling me, and now I'm gonna get killed with just a couple of books in the hands of some mentally deranged chick. God, ouch that friggin hurt! She smacked me over the nose, it feels like it's gonna swell in a few moments. I had half of my back turned to her, with watering eyes and proceeded to rub my red nose while shirking away from the madwoman as she continued her beating with her book on my back. I couldn't back up or anything though, because she had me crouching by the wooden bookshelf and a wall. I was trapped. Ouch! That was head!

The she-demon paused for like a nanosecond, to catch her breath and I seized my chance for a less handicapped future. I was still pretty much crouched down, so leaning forward, I grabbed her around the middle (the spot that was closest to me at that point.) and sort of tackled her down to the floor. Yeah, I'll start caring about my ungentlemanness, when both death weights are gone and Rose starts calming down and accepts the straight-jacket.

Both of us toppled to the floor, and in a flurry of limbs, a couple more purple bruises, and red hair up my nose. I finally smacked the books away and got my hands around her wrist pinning them against the floor beside her head. Yes! Victory! Well kind of. She was surprisingly strong for such a small person. I think she kneed me on the hip, very narrowly missing my groin. And man, would I be angrier if that happened. But it still hurt. Geez, stop moving for 5 seconds. I'm not trying to dry hump you or anything. I wanted to yell at her, but well my lips were pretty sore from getting a mouthful of pages. I heard a small, yet audible crack from somewhere below me, so I assume she must have cricked her back or something. Under different circumstances, I'd be concerned. But right now, I'm not really seeing straight. Or anything happy. So ignored it, and kept my stell grip firm. Ugh she brought this up on herself.

Strangely enough, I sort of accidentally fell on her before and never really got up. So I was lying on her, trying to ignore the kicks from her feet on my shins and the knees in my thighs. She seemed to be so shocked beyond words. I wasn't even the smallest bit turned on to see her sprawled on the floor like that. Well maybe a little. She did look pretty hot, all flushed and tousled. But that was dispelled quickly by my anger at the actions that brought up this position in the first place. And my bruising limbs.

I furiously yelled down at her, feeling myself my face flush with anger. And I don't flush very easily. So you can tell, I was pissed off. "Geez woman?! Are you crazy?! What the hell was that for?!"

Like I wouldn't know.

"Like you wouldn't know!" She had aimed a very well-placed kick that had narrowly missed me somewhere special, so deciding to not further endanger the boys, I rolled off the lady and picked up the books to put them on the top shelf where she-demon wouldn't be able to reach it. Anything solid in the hands of this girl, is sure to be deadly. By that time Rose had scrambled to her feet and staring up at me with a furious expression on her face. Thank Merlin, she stopped trying to physically assault me and settled for trying kill me via mind. It looked like she was trying to send me some sort of mental virus.

And I was pretty mad now too. I mean, not only did she just start assaulting me, with a hard back book, I actually had to bodily restrain her from murdering me. Man, this chick deserves to go somewhere very special. Like an asylum.

And if you know that I cheated, just go out and say it already, don't go stringing me around for a confession. I matched her glare with one of my own and said in her face with as much venom as I could muster. "Why you're acting like a total freak? Then yeah, I don't. Care to enlighten me?"

Rose was fuming, her arms were stiffly by her side and she seemed to be slightly shaking as if she had to restrain herself from covering the distance and attacking me with her bare hands. And at least this time, I wouldn't be turned on.

I was really pissed off. This girl has got some nerve. She assaults because of a stupid book? Who the hell does that?

Narrowing her eyes, her lips twisted to form a sneer, which kind of freaked me out. "Do you know where I was, when you happened to stupidly summon all the spellbooks towards you?"

Um, beside me?

"I was standing right in front of the bookshelf." Well that's pretty unfortunate then, because then that would mean that…Oh! So that's why she's majorly ticked off. I would be too if she was the one who cheated and sent 30 books careening towards me at like 10 miles per hour.

I grimaced and muttered a small embarrassed 'oh.'

"Yes, oh." She spat out, looking down at the items on the floor she glared at something. "Looks like you do have your wand. Did you lie to my face as well as cheat?" her face was so red that I was surprised to see that her eyes were pretty dry. Usually when girl's get worked up like this, they end up bursting into tears before the half the speech comes out. But man, not only was Rose not teary. She was not finished. Not even halfway through

"So I was right all along! I was leading us in the right direction. And funnily enough, I was punished for it. By standing in front of a bookshelf when you so intelligently accio'd 30 spellbooks towards you! Books were everywhere, and I couldn't run away from them, because unfortunately for me it was a narrow passageway. So I actually had to run down the hall to avoid being slaughtered by flying books! I think I might have even dislocated a shoulder. God, how could you be so stupid? What did you do? Just say accio spellbooks? This is a booksto-

One of the last sentences caught my full concern though, so much so that I forgot to be ticked off at her. "Wait, you dislocated a shoulder? I'm so sorry. Are you alright? Geesh, Rose, why didn't you tell me? Come here, I'll heal it for you."

Bending down, I picked up the piece of wood and motioned her to come closer. Her eyes were the size of galleons and she seemed really shocked as if I told her to come closer so I could poke her with quill.

Looking down, she took a small step backwards and muttered, "Y-you don't have to. I can have it tended when I get back." She seemed to forget to be deranged with fury for a moment. "It's not that bad."

"Or you can have it fixed it now. Seriously, I know what I'm doing. I've had a lot of injuries before." I reached out to sort of pull her closer, she only came reluctantly. But when I met my hand met her bare forearm and I felt a zing come up my arm. Static? I don't know, but it felt really strange so I dropped her arm quickly, much to her confusion.

"Well if you know what you're doing then." I made myself sound indifferent, so to cover my uneasiness. What was that? I sort of trailed of with a random wave of my hand, for some reason I couldn't make myself meet her eyes. So I settled for the space beside her bright red ears.

Rose stared at me for a second as she studied my face with a cautious guarded expression, as if she half expected me to turn into some sort of furry, albino animal and start bouncing off the walls.

But I was happy to see that she was starting to cool down a bit. Or maybe her face was getting tired of retaining all that blood and decided to distribute it normally. But either way, she still looked pretty cheesed off, but not enough to start sending the four winds my way or hardback booking me. Again.

I ventured for another apology, and tried to sound as sincere as I felt. But Rose was being pretty prissy and didn't say anything, just looked at me as if she was calculating something. So that was pretty off putting. And really kind of annoying.

Because geez, you'd think she's get over it. She must have been pretty traumatized, because she was still as stony as ever. But man, was this really uncomfortable. I felt kind of awkward and sort of tried to match her kind of cold look with one of my own. I already said my apologies, it's her turn now.

So now we were two feet apart, silently sizing each other up. It must have been one pretty entertaining sight. A rather small disheveled chick, with hair as twice as big as she was, having a staring contest with a blond boy who towered a foot over her, with bruises all over his arms, face, and if I checked in a mirror, everywhere else as well.

Queer. She still wasn't talking, so I was starting to feel really warm under her gaze. God, I hate it when people stare at me, but I wasn't going to back down. I just kept my line of sight fixed and steady, just like her. The only difference between our gazes, was that her's was mixed with caution, coldness, and was sort of assessing me. Mine, I assume it matched what I was feeling, so I bet it was partly reproachful, the other part, weary.

I mean, I was feeling pretty down. Let me tell you, I am not one those sadistic jerks who take pleasure in seeing girls get hurt, so believe me, I was regretful. So part of me wanted to start apologizing profusely on bended knee. But that part was slowly being quenched by the petty, competitive, challenging streak.

But don't worry, I didn't say anything offensive or provoking. Like I said, I do have enough heart to know when to feel bad. And I have the feeling if I did talk back to her, she'd start attacking me with book again, so I managed to hold myself back.

And I also can't snap at her, because I bet seeing me squirm was pretty satisfying for her and well I pretty much owe Rose. So yeah, take as much pleasure right now as you want, sweetheart, in seeing me like this. I'm just going to continue being the total weirdo that I am, because I don't know what else to do. And I don't think walking out on her would do wonders for whatever 'relationship' (is that what you'd call it?) we had. And for some reason, I couldn't think of leaving her right now on such fragile and distant terms. So yeah, see Scorpius stuck. In a staring contest. Yay.

But that didn't mean I was not irked right now. Because I was. I totally was.

I mean, I know that I'm pretty much in the blame for the whole sitch, but she was being pretty hard-headed and stubborn, because she wouldn't let any of it slide. (She kind of reminded me of how Amy, one of my friend's pet dog, would never let anything go once she got her teeth into it. I lost a sock because of that dog. ) Rose just continued to stare at me angrily. Silently, yeah, but still really angrily. And now it was just slightly starting to grate my nerves.

"It's been 2 minutes since you last spoke. Since both of us said anything." I pointed out, flatly. "Just say something already, please." I added the last word as an afterthought, in a softer tone.

She looked kind of startled at this, and it took her so long to answer back, that I was almost not even sure if we were going to talk ever again.

"I was right all along. Admit it."

I rolled my eyes and managed to exhale while shaking my head. Kind of funny move if you ask me, but I couldn't care less because she was now getting on my nerves. She's got to be one of the most annoying, temperamental, crazy chicks I ever knew. And you know what's crazier? I'm not entirely sure it's a bad thing.

"Merlin, you're really such a know-it-all!" I exclaimed lightly, and proceeded to poke her on the side playfully. Now I'm the temperamental one, guess it's contagious.

Dodging my finger, she stuck her tongue out at me and grinned in a way that only one word can describe it. Cocky. And here I thought I was the reigning champion in smirks, but it turns out she's pretty good at it too. Oh and she was also starting to steal my title of World's Most Irritatingly Annoying Winner.

"Admit it. I was right all along!" She taunted, this time even going so far as to doing a little jig around me. It would have been cute.

You know, if I wasn't so petty and annoyed at having it rubbed in my face. Fine call me immature. So, I like to win and hate to lose. Big deal, moving on. If Rose was gonna be like that then I had every right to act immature as well.

I kept my mouth zipped.

"Say it. Admit it."

"Nope."

"Admit it."

"No."

"I can't believe you. You're such a sore loser. I'm not going to hand you the books until you admit it." She had an evil glint in her eye, the madwoman. And this time, she prodded me. I couldn't keep my annoyance in check.

"Oh,get off you high house. You're being unbearable. " I blurted out, unable to conceal my aggravation towards her. She really gets under my skin, this one.

Ooh, apparently not the best thing to say to a Brit chick, who's face color was starting to resemble her hair color.

Here we go again. God she's so temperamental. And I'm not even sure if she knows it or not.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, eh? " She started to hiss dangerously, and this time I couldn't help take a step back. She was frightening. "Am I not good enough for you standards? Just because I actually give a damn, and my vocabulary consists of more words to use in a conversation than 'friggin' and 'yeah well'. And at least I actually have proper manners, unlike a certain big-headed blonde infront of me!"

Hey! That was out of order. Kind of. I mean, yeah that was a horrible thing for me to say and I would take it back if I could. But come on, I am not big-headed! That was a mean thing to say. So that is why I found myself talking back as menacingly as I could "Yeah, some quality manners you've got, calling a person you've know for over an hour big-headed."

Well it's a good point I have to say.

Throwing up her hands in the air with a cry of fury, she started to advance towards me, like how a serial killer would come towards his victims like those freaky 2007 horror muggle movies of those genres. Like add a knife, and a camera, and it's like 'hello Academy Award nomination.'

"You are one of the most cynically-infuriating, intolerant, disrespectful, arrogant, immature git that I have had the misfortunate of ever coming across! And when we come out of this bookstore. I am never. Looking. Back. Again!" She punctuated each of the final words with a stab of her finger to my chest.

"Yeah, well. You're not exactly on my good side either, sister!" But seeing my opening to annoy her further, I stepped closer to her, and wagged my finger in her face. "You're stubborn, temperamental and you know what else, you didn't specifically say anything about charming the books to come this way, so technically I didn't lose." I ended victoriously bitter, and stepped a couple of paces back to soak in my smugness. Hahaha, take that Super-Snob! I smiled triumphantly and leaned back as I reveled in her look of disbelief. One that quickly turned into the fiery glare in the matter of seconds.

Rose recovered quickly at my little psychoanalytical game change plan, and walked forward until we were about 5 inches apart.

"You are, to coin a word your tiny mind could probably comprehend, an immature asshole!"

"You're a bitch!" I came closer.

"You're a dick!" I loomed over her, and she had to look up as I towered over her. And that's when blue met grey in a clash of glares and fury. I could see her eyes, even though they were like a foot under me and I could feel my neck strain a bit from looking down too much. Stormy and azure, like an upset sky.

But there was so much emotion in her eyes, passionate, treacherous, and really, really sexy. And I could tell she was seeing something different too, because the blue orbs widened a bit, and her eyebrows weren't slanted so viciously anymore.

Something in me clicked and it felt as if a force started to control my body. I felt myself being drawn to her, closer and closer. And soon I saw her eyelids slide shut from the corner of my eyes. My main focus was for a feature under it.

I was a breathe away from the cupid-bowed lips, before I finally felt my eyes close.

And met a faceful of air.

Because instead of having her lips on mine, I had her arms wrapped around my midriff.

In a hug.…

Yeah you saw that right.

Weird? Very, very, very much so, thanks for asking.

Well yeah, I know it would have still been weird to kiss her, I mean, come on, I don't even know her last name. So kissing her would have caused a lot of awkward moments. But hey, we'd eventually be alright at one point, because it's just one of those times where you can say you had all that built up frustration and you needed to take it out on the nearest appropriate gender that contradicts you. Oh, and also you're pretty. We have blamed it all on the arguments and totally take it in stride. So once, the awkwardness was blown aside, I would have laughed at it heartedly.

But hugging me? Um, what? Was she upset? Did I say something? Did she not want to kiss me, so instead opted for the most nicest rejection? Compared to totally slapping me in the face and humiliating me, well I guess, I'd take the hug. But I didn't actually expect it to be an option. I didn't even know it would be an option. Like at all. So this is pretty queer to say the least. Oh and unexpected.

Heck, it's safe to say hugging was completely on the back of the list. It's not even near that stratosphere. It definitely falls under the random category. But look on the bright side, at least I'm not the one who's looks like the stalker.

Staring down at the head full of red-hair, I could imagine my totally baffled face looking at her with wide eyes and mouth agape. I couldn't even push her away, my body was still paralyzed from the shock.

Out of all the questions in my mind, I am having trouble choosing one to say out loud. Namely "Um, why are you hugging me?" or "Why can't I feel your lips." I don't say the latter, because it's completely and utterly assholey if I do. I mean,_ I_ would slap myself if I heard those words come out of my mouth at this moment. And well this girl is obviously either temperamental or just really weird and freaky, so the last thing I want to do is say the wrong thing. I wisely chose to cast the invisible reel in my head and hook on to the nearest, safe question.

"Uh, are you alright?" I drew out the 'uh', and realized at the exact same moment that my arms were sort of held away from me and her. As if I was afraid to touch her. Well at least my body was still responding to my mind. They were like suspended near my head, completely uselessly if you ask me. So I instinctively did, what every other living person would do in my position, I put my arms around her.

Yeah, I hugged her back. I'm a nice guy, I even sort of patted her on the back a bit. Now I'm the crazy one. But then again, there is a lot of crazy to go around. Did I mention this is really queer? I did? Well it seems like something worth saying again, seeing as it is. Like really. A lot.

This. Is. Really. Weird.

I wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed, polite, flattered or confused. In the end, I decided just to be all.

So there we were, hugging as if our lives depended on it, albeit slightly awkwardly. And after a while, she still didn't let go.( I did however see a little bit of her forehead, and it was bright red. At least, she's responding normally.) But hey, I'm not exactly complaining. It actually felt really pleasant, once you get used to the complete and utter randomness.

She was small and fit in my arms quite nicely. We weren't pressed up against each other, but I could feel the outline of her body a bit and the heat radiating from her small frame. And from up close I could smell her hair since it was about a few inches away from me. Fresh grass and mild flowers. That's how she smelt like. And she wasn't squirming away from me for now, so that's a plus.

Finally, I had enough of the silence (she didn't answer my previous question.)and decided to speak up.

"Um, r-Rose?" my voice was kind of strangled as I struggled to find my voice. "Can I ask you something?"

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I started hugging him.

Yes, you saw heard that correctly.

I hugged him. Out of all the things I could have done to avoid the kiss, I hugged him. Gods, I have officially lost it.

I just panicked. The absolute git, was coming closer and closer and I couldn't stop it, because for some unknown reason, I didn't want to. I knew it wrong, that's the thing, I barely know him, and I just came out of a devastating relationship so it would have been just morally wrong to allow our lips to meet.

But I wanted to kiss him. I just know I wasn't ready. It's not fair, why can't my mind and my body just be one. Why do they have to actually argue, making me the most confused human being ever.

It was lust. I blame it all on the lust from the argument. Sexual tension, that's what got Teddy and Victoire together. So it I know it works very effectively, and it would make lots of sense. All that pent-up frustration made way to sexual tension. My instincts were screaming to kiss him, while my conscience was screaming to push him away. So at the last possible moment, they made compromised. It's not something my Dad would be proud of (or willingly hear for that matter.), but at least it would explain why I suddenly threw my arms around him. Well not really, it just why I was acting like a total nutter. My brain isn't as advance as I hoped it was if I was that close to… well, you know obviously, you were there.

But in my defense, I get the Neanderthal instincts part from my Dad's side. And Dad's just hopeless.

And Scorpius was so sweet, as well. Like when he seemed so concerned when I was gasping for breath after running and when I mentioned my shoulder. (He called my sweetheart again!) He asked me what was wrong in such a tender voice; I would have swooned a bit if I wasn't so furious at nearly being run over by tomes. Even when he offered to heal my shoulder, I forgot to be mad at him for a moment. And then, that whole immature child act.

He was so stubborn. It doesn't really bother me that much, because I spend more time with my male cousins, so I'm quite used to that type of thing. Men can be so stubborn. Well actually, just Scorpius. He was especially stubborn. So much so, that I believe that he deserves his own picture beside the word in the dictionary. Next to James, of course, and Fred. And Hugo, sometimes. Actually, I'd be more surprised if Scorpius actually did admit it that I was right. And kind of disappointment. So that must mean, in some twisted way, he is normal. Since men seem to be incapable of admitting they were ever wrong. Unluckily, he admitted no such thing. He just kept on ignoring me until that very impromptu and rather insulting comment. Thus, resulting in our shouting match. Really, he is quite temperamental for a male.

And plus, Scorpius looked positively delicious, hovering over me yelling his head off with his face faintly flushed and grey eyes blazing passionately. Then he had to ruin it by rolling off.

So consequently, you cannot blame me for wanting the contact. All my senses just shut off the moment I closed my eyes, before seeing his face come nearer. It was as if Scorpius' face just broke the security line that keeps my thoughts together. As if he crossed a border, and tripped a mechanism that released my rational judgment into some sort of wilderness. Like my thoughts were rats deserting a sinking ship. Traitors.

Unfortunately, they came back at the worst moment, when he had closed his eyes. I couldn't signal him to stop, he couldn't see me, and my throat wasn't working properly enough to make a sound. So the minute I felt his cool breath on my lips, my eyes snapped open, and instead of pushing him away like I'd intended, I found my arms circling his waist on instinct. Pure instinct made that unusual choice for me. Pure instinct. Weird.

I bet he thinks I'm demented. Like seriously mental. I'm currently doubting my sanity, as well. It's so completely unpredictable, and…strange. And I know, all my relatives tell me that I'm certainly an oddball for being such a zealous, muggle superstition follower and inept in the art of movement. But I've never been the one who'd throw myself at random people. Usually I save that kind of actions for the third meeting.

But lo and behold, I'm cuddling a total stranger.

I knew my oddball nature would be my ultimate downfall, one day.

I could feel him stiffen when I put my arms around him, and he seemed extremely bewildered. Well of course, what reaction was I expecting? A kiss? My face grew warmer, for some _odd_ reason, so I kept it buried beneath his, now dry thanks to me, shirt. The fabric smelled like rain, smoke and something unidentifiable, I think it was milk. I wanted to sniff him again, just to see if I could classify or name the particular smell, but, I don't need another reason for him to think I'm mental, so I restrained myself.

Trying to keep my face hidden from his gaze I didn't let go of my grip around his waist to prolong the moment until I had to actually answer him. And also to hide the fact that my skin was most likely the colour of beetroot. I could feel myself blush all the way to my out-of-control, unruly hair.

There I was clinging on to Scorpius for dear life, while his arms were held outstretched as if he was afraid to catch the same disease that had clearly turned me loony.

So imagine my complete surprise as a few seconds later, I felt his arms go around me. He was hugging me back. He was hugging me back. Bloody hell! The git was hugging me back! My wits were protesting and ordering me to pull away, but I wouldn't-no, couldn't move. Honestly, this isn't fair at all. As owner of this body I should have at least some control over it!

But still, I wasn't exactly complaining as his arms were around me and I could feel his hands on the middle of my back. I was far from complaining. His hands were cold, I could feel it through my shirt.

Well you know what the superstition says. Cold hands, warm hearts.

We stayed like that for a while in silence, his now warming hands around my shoulders and my arms around his midsection, the quiet that had started when I put my arms around him was only broken once when he asked if I was alright. Silly question, really, from a silly bloke. I could tell he was only asking to somehow convey his confusion, because when he asked that he still held his arms away from me as if he was afraid of contracting the crazy disease.

I didn't answer though, because my voice wasn't ready to speak out loud. It must have still been recovering from the embarrassment. Oh well, it's not like I give out a sane impression to begin with so he probably thinks I'm stark-raving mad. And I can't blame him in the slightest.

Believe it or not, it was actually really nice, feeling his arms around me. Nothing like what I had felt with Ian, of course. With Ian there were sparks, there were fireworks, there was snow and trumpets and songbirds in the background. I could feel heat everywhere. All one sided experiences though, because for that to happen to both the people, that would equal to love, right? And he obviously didn't feel the same way I did about him because then why would he dump me? So then, in conclusion, he didn't feel what I felt about him.

But the hug with Scorpius was still really…toasty. Like a hug with The Scamanders or Teddy, still has a lot of innocent love, and not the disgust of anything incestuous. Well with Teddy maybe, a bit. Because I already count him as family now that he's with Vic.

It's hard to describe the hug Scorpius and I were sharing. It was fueled by spontaneity and embarrassment, from me. And confusion and awkwardness, from Scorpius. And I'm probably making this seem like a bigger fuss than it really is, but once those feelings subsided a bit, there was a lot more feelings bubbling up under the surface. More than I feel comfortable with. And I don't like those feelings, by the feel of things, so it's best to keep them down, buried and hidden, yeah?

For now all I could focus on was the presence holding me. It was safe, pleasant, and could always happen between two friends, alright? So there was no need to raise an alarm for something that was not threatening. I kept on telling myself that this was normal. All friends can hug each other. I even tried to lie to myself at one point and tell myself that this wasn't awkward at all. What a big, fat, useless lie that was. Who was I fooling? This was the epitome of awkward. It was nice, but the whole timing was strange and definitely not normal. This was really odd. We could be dressed up in Eskimo suits, and this would still be bloody uncomfortable!

He even lightly rested his chin on my hair at one point. It was so sweet. But it still felt rather weird. It made me feel toasty and on end as if something was going to happen. And there were a lot of unknown feelings there that I don't even want to think about yet! And like I said, all I was doing was hugging the boy!

But still, I didn't want to move just yet. In case he thought that I was squirming away and pulled back, of course. I wasn't ready to face the music yet, because I could still feel my steaming face. So I kept still, like a dead fish. That's why I didn't move. That's it. Nothing else. No other reason to keep still. So don't look at me like that.

He didn't seem to mind though, because he wasn't pulling away. So he might have actually appreciated it. But then again maybe he was too scared to. I was acting barmy.

One thing's for sure. There was something really odd about the both of us. I was clearly out of my mind, and spend way too much time with my over the top, expressive cousins. And he was either really laid-back about everything, didn't care that random girls were throwing themselves at him, or knew something.

Like who I was.

It hit me like a ton of bricks and almost made me pull away in disgust. What if he was one of those creepy, stalker like people, who tail mum, dad and Uncle Harry day in and day out? What if he was one of the press or undercover paparazzi who wanted a scandal from inside the family? That would explain why he isn't pulling away, or even asking excessive amounts of question about my mum or dad.

But as quickly as that thought came, it went away. Because as much as I'd like to make sense about this…situation, and even though I have a rational reason for my paranoia. I can't just go accusing everyone of being a spy just because they don't jump apart from me when I touch them. Scorpius seemed to be genuinely in the dark about who I am. Nothing suspicious flashed in his eyes when I said my name nervously. And he didn't seem that conniving to be an undercover agent. And also, if he was trying to get information from me, I bet he'd be hanging on every word, not spacing out as much as he does right now.

So back to square one. Why isn't he running away screaming? Well I could do with a little mystery, I guess. For now.

The silence was lapsing into an eternity, with neither one of us pulling away.

It was nice, quiet, peaceful.

But it all had to be broken eventually, of course. Seeing how odd and strange this situation was. And trust me, it really was.

"Um, r-Rose, can I ask you something?" Scorpius spoke up with a deeper and more choked voice than usual.

Sure, just as long as it's not asking why we came to be in this position. I silently prayed in my head.

"Sure." I tried to keep my voice upbeat and preppy and not at all weird. But by doing that, I think I accomplished the exact opposite. I've never been in a situation like this before, but I can definitely say that being upbeat and preppy is not the right response.

"Why are we hugging?"

Wonderful, really. See I knew I should have just kicked him in the groin and stormed off in anger. Well no choice, now I have to answer him. Taking a deep breathe, without having even the slightest bit of idea to answer back. I did the only thing I could do. I winged it.

"well, I-"

"Rose, there you- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" A loud and very familiar, male voice yelled out all of a sudden, making both of us wrench apart. Curse my bad luck, I knew that ladder incident was going to come back and bite me. I could easily say that between answering the two questions, I would have taken the first one had I known what answering the second one would result in.

Oh, bollocks.

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Hey Readers!! Man this one took ages! It's crazy long. Like I think it's my longest chapter, thus my longest post pause. So yes, I finally updated. I'm so sorry for the lack of postage! I wanted to post this chapter as a whole. But I'm awfully sorry that took eons to finish! I think that's the longest I've ever gone without posting a chapter, but I wanted enter this one complete with everything, because a lot of stuff are in this chapter, and it was really fun. So please forgive me for my tardiness. Funnily enough, I actually was planning to make this chapter longer, but it was too long so I decided just to cut it. So maybe the next chapter's going to be coming a lot sooner, since everything's mapped out.

So wuddya think of this chapter? It's really wild now that look back on it. It kind of reminds me of some of the Hogwarts scenes I have planned out. Not the type of situations that happen everyday, I have to say. But this is not a normal situation, I mean, hello? Wizards, magic, fanfiction. That should pretty much clear some stuff up.I put in a lot of really odd situations also because well, a lot of things are gonna explain other stuff in the future. And also, I wanted to see how they'd react in situations like attacking books.

If you think this chapter was hectic, wait till we get to Hogwarts.

So yes, there's a lot of funny stuff going on with Scorp and Rose. Most of it is…denial? Volatility? Obliviousness (is that even a word?) Yeah, it seems kind of confusing, their situations. They're quite the characters. They like each other, they don't, ugh rollercoaster. They think they're so different form one another, but they're views are surprisingly alike. They pretty much dislike each other for the qualities they have in common, very amusing. But I'm thinking of having someone outside clearing everything up. It's actually very simple.

Scorpius. What can I say about him? I'm trying to make him a jerk, yet everyone still loves him! Gosh, he's supposed to be immature, selfish, and very random. But that's why we love him. Or why I love him anyway. He's not as bad as I say in my author's notes But he's got a lot of growing up to do this year. He's figuring a lot of peoplI guess, this would fall under the character building story genre. Right next to humor. Rose. Were you guys expecting her P.O.V? I was actually planning for the whole story to be two-sided, like a Watching you Watching me kind of book. So I've been planning how Rose would be for a while. What do you think? Did I do her justice? I actually got inspiration from Kate Winslet's Clementine character in Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind for Rose. She's kind of eccentric, still the very conservative girl, Hermione would have brought up, but still very much the open type you'll find in our generation these days. But still she's not a complete tomboy, as I originally wanted her to be, but she's still not the girly type. Like she said, she spends most of her time with her male cousins. But she still gets it on with Lily and Dom, because well, Rose is pretty loveable once you get to know her. And the superstitious part plus clumsy, was just something I really wanted to add into the storyline, because well you don't really find a superstitious Rose nowadays. She's always bossy, and a sort of know-it-all or like the wild child in a lot of stories out there, so I thought, what about the funny type? Like the geeky girl who plays Star Wars and stuff. That would be kind of cool on a pretty Rose.

Sorry, about the authors note, just got a lot to say. And I'm rushing, so that there won't be any further delay, and also I sort of need to visit the bathroom.

So hope you guys like it! I know I should be sued for giving it up so late, so please stay with me though; I think 5 more chappies until the Hogwarts. Gosh, even I can't wait. I would actually just pass forward into the story, if the beginning wasn't so crucial to the plotline.

Love you guys for staying with me so long! Thank you, thank you, and thank you! Times infinity, plus one. Readers are awesome, but you know what else is awesome too? Reviewers. I love you guys who favorited, alerted and reviewed, you are seriously why I haven't dropped this story idea in the first chapter. Well, just pulled another all-nighter, and I think it's safe to say that my growth is pretty much stunted. But it was worth it, to finally be able to put this chapter up! Holy Ganza, that is one long chapter.

Read and review, Love you guys!

~Ms. Five-feet-forever.


	11. Sheesh, Ever Heard of Shakespeare?

Disclaimer: Not mine. Nuff said.

Readers. You are the best.

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Damn it, am I going to live my whole entire life being interrupted by grown ups? Seriously, if I have a wedding or something, I'm gonna make sure that all the guests are silenciod and frozen before I say 'I do'. Because it seems like whenever I'm either about to answer or hear an important question I get interrupted. (I wonder how my last judgment's gonna be like.)

Geez, why can't I ever just finish hearing something? The world isn't going to spontaneously combust because I finally heard a complete sentence.

God, It's like a curse.

I briefly closed my eyes, to see that maybe if I open them again I'll be in my room at Leaky and all of this would have been some crazy dream, (Because this was all seriously too weird to be reality.) rubbing them a bit for good measure. I opened my eyes and was met with the same scene. Crup, now I'm going to actually have to deal with this weirdness. Why couldn't Rose just have killed me with the book when she had the chance.

Opening my eyes I saw Rose standing a couple of paces away, her face aflame, and refusing to meet my gaze. Her face was so red, it looked about the same shade as her hair. Like seriously fire hydrant red. Like if I put my hand on her cheek, I might actually get first degree burns. I wouldn't mind, her skin looks pretty soft.

It was actually pretty funny, you know, if I wasn't like mortified to death.

My back was to the man, so I couldn't see his face. I couldn't see anything of him, now that I think about it. But I could definitely hear him alright. He was stuttering and stammering and tripping over what definitely sounded _a lot like_ words, but not quite.

I held my position, and kept my eyes on the ground in front of me. The noises he was making sounded pretty livid, like a leopard's miaow/ snarl and I didn't want my murderer's hands around my neck to be the last thing I saw before I died.

Yes, I'd much rather like to have my muddy sneakers as the final picture imprinted into my corneas. My logic defies all forms of intellect.

Glancing at Rose, she seemed to look exactly how I felt. With bugged eyes and a down-turned mouth, the girl looked like a kid caught cheating on a test. A mixture of freaked out past coherent thoughts, and embarrassed past all words. Um yeah, tension? Meet my very blunt butterknife. Did you hear? It can easily cut you.

A red-faced, red-head was standing near a bruised blond guy, who was staring at the floor as if all he wanted was to be swallowed up by it. It would be a pretty funny picture. And don't forget the unfaced man with a speech impediment standing just a few feet behind them. You obviously can't miss that.

I risked another peek at Rose and shot her a pointed, questioning look.

But all I got back was a mortified and uncomfortable, "Oh, bullocks." from her.

Not exactly the response I was looking for, sweetie, but it's alright. She must be feeling pretty horrified about not only hugging a total stranger, but getting caught by someone you actually know.

"Oi! Rose, answer me! What the hell is going on here?" The man demanded dazedly (Ah, finally! Words.) as he was now getting over his too-freaked-out-beyond-words state and was slowly getting into his too-pissed-off-to-see-reason-state. "And you!" I was wondering when I'd be noticed. "Turn around and face me, boy!" Aw geez, really, someone's really trying to make me kill myself. I grit my teeth together and made a face to face the random stranger who was yelling at me. Please not boyfriend, please not boyfriend. Brother, cousin, uncle, anything but boyfriend.

I was fiddling with my shirt and casting my face down, when I faced him. (I don't need him to have a target as well as a motivation to punch me.) And at the corner of my eye I saw Rose's face flush a darker color (and here, I thought it wasn't possible.) and contort into a look of both the chagrin and anger, she had. And that was a lot of anger she was feeling, by the looks of it.

"Dad! Stop it! Stop embarrassing me!" Rose shrieked furiously with bugged eyes. Her red hair looked like it radiated electricity. Her fingers came out of its tangled knot, and was clenched tightly into fists.

So, he was her father. The relief I got from finally getting some explanation of the sort instantly disappeared as I finally registered everything. Crap, it was her father. I would rather have had the boyfriend. (God, not in that way, ew geesh I-yeah, I think you should get it. If you don't well, I don't have time to explain my straightness to you. I have bigger things to worry about. Like the fact that I was caught hugging practically a stranger, by, out of all the people in Diagon Alley, her Dad. Really the fates must be cracking up right now. Yeah, laugh it up, you bastards.) Yeah, why don't you just book my hospital bed already. Urgh, you know what this calls for. Hey, don't laugh! My emo, bangs covered face may not be the most attractive, but…it protects me.

Like how a little rugrat closes his eyes in a crowd so people can't find him. It's pathetic how all I can hide behind is my hair, right now.

This was kind of scary beyond relief. I've been caught by girlfriend's brothers a whole lot. Uncles, a plenty. Heck, I think I even got caught by a girl's boyfriend once. But I've always managed to stay away from Dads until the last possible moment. It's like instinct, a blip on my danger radar, alerts me whenever a paternal parent is nearby.

I guess, my father bear senses are wacked up in England. Among all my other favourite qualities. Why? Because the fates exist to torture me, that's why. They've spiked the water! That's like the only explanation! Argh, England does not like me. And the feeling is very much mutual.

But that clears up a lot. Him being her Dad. Not a lot of people have the right to be that loud. And that could explain Rose's embarrassed/defiant look. Looking up very, very slightly, I could see a definite resemblance. Freckles were spread around his face, in an almost mirror image of his daughter's so they both were splattered across the nose that Rose had gotten. They even had the same blue eyes, flaming red hair, and right now, the same flaming face color. Even their ears collected the same amount of blood to turn the exact same color. And I thought it couldn't be replicated, but apparently arteries are hereditary.

He didn't see me glance up thankfully, because his anger was now channeled at the teenage girl in front of me, who was now standing stiffly with her hands on her hips with a look of pure gold. She looked ready to kill. Wonder how this one plays out.

"Don't talk to me like that, young lady!" Ooh, I hate it when they pull out the 'Don't talk to me like that.' Card. I mean seriously, out of all the things to say when you see stuff happening, that's all you care about? The tone? "I am your father! Who is this? I don't know him! What are you doing hugging some random boy! And in Flourish and Blott's?!"

The random boy part caught me off guard, because I forgot that I was that boy he was referring to for a second. Well if it helps we met for like 5 seconds yesterday. Ask the boy that interrupted us, he could probably recognize me once I flick the weird emo bangs I had, right now, away from my face.

"Would you prefer if we went somewhere else?" Rose retorted sarcastically, with the usual company of an eye roll. Hm, turns out Rose, isn't the typical Brit. Sure she's kind of stuck-up, or well okay, really stuck up. But anyone who sticks up for themselves in the face of authority is always pretty much okay in my book. Way to stick it to the man, Rose.

Rose must have gotten a lot of satisfaction at seeing her Dad imitate a goldfish for a few seconds. I would totally have gotten a kick out it, if I were her.

But recovering quickly from his shock, Rose's dad stomped his foot in frustration a few seconds later (people still do that? Who knew?) "You both aren't going anywhere together, you hear me! Because-because, I don't know him at all!" right because that explanation is good enough for anything.

His face was so red, I don't think I saw anyone's face that color before. Except for Rose. I corrected as I glanced at her again. My eyes were starting to hurt from straining to look at them without showing my face. Yeah, I wasn't ready to show my face just yet, so for those who don't know, that weird tall freak with a platinum curtain on his face standing in the middle of a shouting match between two red-heads of varying sizes. Yep that's me. Call me a coward, my courage can only stretch so far. And red-faced giants for Dads are my limit.

From what I could see, there were a lot of red blobs in front of me. I guess, their faces were the same color as their hair, because I couldn't tell which one was which.

They went on arguing like that for a while. Rose said something about being old enough to hang out with boys who aren't related to her and somehow known by her parents. And her Dad retaliated by stuttering out something like only being able to hang out with Owl and James. She finally rounded and stormed towards him. And forgetting all my security, I looked up to face this scene. Because it looked like something I wouldn't want to miss.

Rose stood straight a few feet away and lifted her head so that she was staring right at her Dad, squarely in the eye. Man, Rose's Dad was tall. Like even taller than me. Rose must have one serious crick in the neck. And he was staring at her with the same stubborn, stare that I swear is hereditary. Among other obvious traits.

"I was just hugging a friend hello, and then you went all mental and started yelling at me!"

I resisted the urge to clear my throat (Dead give away.) and tried to make it seem as if this wasn't new to me. Because I'd like to come out of this entire thing, alive, if you don't mind. Rose wouldn't look at me as she enunciated every word slowly and clearly, to get the point across. I could imagine why she wouldn't look at me, seeing as it was a flat out lie. (I think we were very much past the 'hello' part when she hugged me. I'm just saying)

You could tell she was trying to be the grown up in this situation, since no other one was around at the present time. And it would have worked too, if she wasn't practically hissing at her Dad. Not the politest thing to do apparently.

"Don't talk to me like that young lady!" He roared back. Well at least, we know where Rose got her stubbornness from. He wouldn't just admit he overreacted and get over it. Nope, he just moved onto the next topic where he could yell at her. Reminds me of someone. CoughcoughDraco/Astoriacoughcough.

Rose's Dad's face was a few shades darker, now and I was beginning to worry he might pop a vessel, then and there. I wonder what would have happened if you prodded the vein throbbing in his temple. I didn't do it of course, because he'd start to notice me if I just started poking his head. And I really liked the fact that I was practically invisible right now. Maybe if they continued arguing I could slip away quietly. This was getting too after-school-special for me. An my eardrums were pretty sensitive when all of this started, so right now it feels like it's frickin bleeding. Now I can almost feel sympathy for Lyra.

But I didn't get the chance to sneak away of course, because timing belongs in the hands of the People who don't particularly like me.

"And who the bloody hell are you, boy?" Rose's Dad rounded on me. He made it sound like an accusation, like whatever I said would instantly be declared the wrong answer. So don't blame me for not answering straight away. My throat felt scratchy and bitter, as if someone made me swallow pennies. This happens when I'm freaked out of my wits. I was scared and pale, would be a spot on description of my obscured face.

I stared at my feet, and mumbled something even I couldn't understand. And I'm the one saying it. From a distance, I heard Rose as she shrilly yelled at her Dad to leave me alone.

"Look up when you speak to me, boy, and tell me what your name is." The man said menacingly again. But this time his voice sounded really close. Like in my face close. I knew I should have just grabbed the book on the first day, if only Lyra and Mom came just a few minutes later.

And geez, what was I gonna do now? That was a pretty direct order. I couldn't just ignore the general. He could like, crucio me or something. So I just took the plunge, taking a deep breath, I ran a hand to brush my hair away, and looked up.

"I'm Scorpius. My name is Scorpius."

My steel grey eye met the wide with astonishment, blue ones when I looked up. To say he was surprised would be the understatement of the week (or one of them any way.). His jaw was about a mile away, and his eyes were pretty close to it too. It would have been pretty funny. And it kind of was, just a little. But it's safe to say that the confusion definitely overrode the humor. He looked like I just came out and said I was his father, the Darth Vader way (Yeah, to those clueless, sad people out there, Darth Vader is a sort of villain from one of the best muggle movies of all time. I'll explain what a movie is later, when I'm not in danger of being sterilized.) I'm serious, there was like shock, confusion, horror, revulsion, all rolled into one.

Which was kind of mean, because it's not like I cut off his arm and asked him to rule the universe by my side. I just told him my name, and granted it isn't the best name out there, but I don't think it deserves that. God, rude much?, I wanted to say to him as he continued to gape, revolted at me. I'm not distorted or anything (quite the opposite actually.) so why was he looking at me as if I was some ghost of Christmas past who came back to haunt him?

I frowned at his gapping expression (he does that quite a lot and I'm starting to really not like Rose's Dad.). And opened my mouth to say an equally rude "What?" but was disrupted by the sound of a familiarly old voice breaking the really awkward silences.

Alfonso. Thank Merlin. Maybe he'd be able to inject some sense into this situation.

"What is going on here? Why where people yelling just a few minutes ago? Ronald? Rose? Was it you two shouting in here?" Turning around, I was relieved at the sight of the old man walking over us.

Finally, someone sane!

Alfonso, toddled over to us with a bemused expression on his face. I wonder why.

He seemed quite surprised to see a tousled, red-head girl staring confusedly at an equally red-head man who was gawking open-mouthed at an equally tousled blonde kid. The scene's pretty normal looking.

You know, in a soap opera.

He broke into a smile though, when he saw me standing there. And that is the reaction I expect at the sight of me. I much prefer this usual one.

"Scorpius lad, what's going on here?" Alfonso sidled up to me and casually, put a hand on my shoulder.

At the sight of my obvious camaraderie with the bookkeeper, Rose's dad's (Ronald. Got it.) eyes popped out even more, and his face started turning a little green. (Hey, it can turn different colors. Like a rainbow. Now if you could make it blue…)

I glanced at Rose and saw her eyes widen a bit in recognition, but she was still frowning at her Dad with utmost confusion. I wouldn't blame her either. He's been staring at me for like 3 minutes, it's getting really uncomfortable for me. I mean, he didn't even break his gaze when Alfonso came in, or maybe he did, but it was only for a second, because when I looked back, he was still staring at me with eyes the size of walnuts. Weird, doesn't even begin to cover it. I stepped back to let Alfonso observe him, but Rose's Dad's eyes were still glued to me.

"What's wrong with him?" Alfonso asked curiously, and even lifted his hand to, what I assume, poke him but stopped midway. I would have poked, if I were him. But I guess Alfonso just has more etiquette.

Tilting my head to the side and putting a finger on my chin, like a doctor studying a mental patient. (Something not that far off in this situation, I guess.) I replied slowly. "I don't know. He's catatonic."

I wonder if it would be okay if I kicked him. Just to, like, wake him up or something.

As I was studying him, Rose rolled her eyes at us and walked up to her Dad. "Daddy? Can you hear me?"

Well he should, he's standing right next to you. I wanted to yell out while Alfonso started asking Rose what happened. That was when I realized something about Rose's dad.

You know, I'm starting to think I saw him before. Like maybe in a picture or something. Because he looks freakishly familiar.

Unfortunately, all my previous musings flew out of my head when Rose waved a hand over his face and Rose's Dad (I can't say, Ron. It feels weird.) finally snapped awake.

Because the words that came out of his mouth was that surprising.

"Malfoy?!" Woah geez, thank god I wasn't standing next to him at that moment or I would have like crapped my pants. And how does he know my name? Weird, I mean I know parents like to know who their children are seeing, but this is just impossible. How'd that happen?

The three of us jumped back at Rose's dad's exclamation/accusation (God, you'd think I killed his brother or something.). The other two more hastily than I did, seeing as they were standing right beside him when he decided to wake up the rest of the Northern Hemisphere.

Alfonso being the older, thus rustier of the two had a hard time resetting his malfunction, creaky heart and was wheezing while I rubbed his back. (I don't know how that even helps for him, but hey it's like universally known as the 'Are you alright? I am a caring person. Thus, I care for you." Sign.) Rose, still clutching her heart, or the place over it anyway, asked gently. "Dad? Are you having a school flashback? Are you alright?"

Alfonso's the one who's having a breakdown. I wanted to point out, but stopped when I realized that I didn't need to pat him anymore. He was pretty much restored. And kind of alarmed. Great, what was going on now?

Rose's Dad stuttered out this time looking at Rose and Alfonso as if he was trying to warn them of serial killer in their midst or something. "M-Malfoy!"

It seemed like he was calling me, so I just went along with it and stepped forward.

"Yes?" I ventured innocently, and resisted the urge to add in a 'sir'. We're not in the army, no matter how much of his spit flies on my face.

But for some queer reason, Rose's Dad wasn't the only one who was surprised at my verification. Rose stared at me, dumbfounded, as if I just conked her on the head with a beater's bat. While Alfonso was watching me with wide eyes that peered through his wrinkles. And those are some serious looking wrinkles, so he must be surprised.

Now I was the one being stared at. For what reason? I doubt even the universe can make sense of, right now.

"What?" I asked irritatedly, now I'm getting annoyed. You'd think one of them would have enough manners to not be so gawkish. They are British.

"You're Malfoy?"

"Um, yeah." Rose's eyes widened, and were now probably in risk of falling out. So I had to say urgently. "So?"

Great. More silence. If this was a movie, then I'm pretty sure I'd be able to hear crickets in the background. I was almost waiting for someone to yell out "hahaha, Gotcha! You shoulda seen your face. Hey, thanks Rose, you're a great actress. Al, you're kinda stiff, but hey, we messed with him in the end, so whatever. Ron, dude you should totally audition for like movies! The look on his face when you yelled out 'Malfoy!', priceless!"

But I doubt that'll happen, because well the director I imagined had like a normal American accent. So I doubt the person popping in would say those exact words. Or if they did, I would laugh hard. At him.

So yeah, probably not happening. Sad really, because it would kind of explain all the weirdness right now. Sorry, I babble when I'm edgy.

And the silence that followed was amazingly uncomfortable, thus making me edgy. I mean, I know it's a really horrible name, but come on, this is too much. Usually people are past this stage right now. Usually, they're on the floor laughing in the first 2 minutes. And you know it's uncomfortable when you would prefer having everyone laughing at you over this.

Thankfully (or unthankfully. I don't know, a lot of things are grey in my mind right now. Must be the extreme confusion.) Rose's dad broke the silence, turning to his frozen daughter and shouted as furious as ever. "You hugged a Malfoy!?"

"I didn't know he was one, before!" Uh what? I was expecting a "We were saying hello?" or even a "Nothing else happened!" but she's defending herself from my name? Out of all the things? What did my name do to her? What's that even supposed to mean?

Rose's Dad would glance at me every so often and look at me like dirt every once in a while, as if the first time wasn't painful enough, and I was getting pretty offended. Why was he looking at me like that? And what is up with their name phobia?

And why wouldn't Rose look at me?

God, this is so confusing! What the hell is going on, here? I wanted to yell out as they continued yelling at each other (the kind of "Are too! Was not! Are too! Kind of petty thing.) and I couldn't help turn to Alfonso with a big WTF question mark on my face.

But the guy wouldn't look at me, too, I realized. My insides, started feeling cold as if someone was slowly pouring water down my back. His eyes were everywhere but mine. Alfonso didn't even seem to want to be around me, now that I faced him. Like he was slowly inching away. Call me crazy, but it seemed like he didn't even want to be around me now that he knew my last name. That thought sparked a small and disbelieving fire of fear in my stomach, because as weird and insane as it was, it seemed to get truer by the second. Alfonso wasn't on my side anymore. And I didn't even know there was a side to choose. Or even expect in that matter. Alfonso, looked almost well, ashamed. Like ashamed that he knew me or something.

God, okay seriously, what the hell it going on? I tried to say it, but strangely enough, when I opened my mouth to speak, my voice just switched off. So I just screamed it in my head and hoped the look appeared on my face.

I wonder if the portkey was a time-turner, that like transported me centuries into the past, where my Dad was young and looked like me. It would clear up a few things, because judging my Dad's personality now, he doesn't strike me as the popular type back in his day. Or even the likeable type.

And it would explain how everyone already knew who I was, because duh, they're seeing Dad, not the improved version. And I do look an awful lot like him. Unfortunately.

Seriously, what's the matter everyone? What did I do wrong? It's as if I just suddenly up and said "I am the reincarnation of Voldemort! So blame me for all random, past transgressions!" And it's not like I met them before. So why was Alfonso treating me like I just stole his books catalog or something.

"Is that my wand?"

Oh yeah, because I sort of did. Damn it! Why do these things always come back to bite me on the ass? I can actually feel my mental rear end. And it hurts.

I couldn't help watch in horror, as Alfonso walked over to the fallen wand and picked it up holding it up to the light to inspect the damage. And believe me, was there damage. Damn, so that was the crack I heard back when Rose and I were wrestling.

You remember how I said I felt like someone dumped a bucket of water down my back? Well imagine that the bucket was actually a truck. And instead of water, it was ice. With wriggling eels. And instead of my back, it was down my stomach. Yes, that was what I was feeling, right at that moment. As if someone gave me a truckload of eels and ice to dry-swallow and I could feel it squirming in my intestines.

A small 'aw, crap.' came out of my mouth as my eyes registered the fact that the piece of wood hung together by about enough splinters for me to count. Man, was that thing busted. It would definitely need some spell-care, if a reparo wouldn't do anything. It wasn't broken in two, (I mean, all the pieces were there and even kind of still together. So maybe that's why I didn't notice it before.) But it was still there. The crack that is.

It wouldn't have been a big deal, I guess if I asked for the wand in the first place. Because a lot of my friends, had wand problems and all they'd do was send it to the shop and bada bing bada boom, few seconds later, presto! Fixed Wand! But that's the thing, I didn't ask. So not only did I break his wand.

I broke his trust. So yeah, aw crap seems pretty fitting now, dontcha think?

"How did this get here?" Alfonso quietly asked, as he thumbed the splinters with a gentle finger as if he was trying to press it inside. Rose and her Dad were starting to lower it down a bit, and I sort of wanted to tell them to continue their shouting match. Because then at least someone would be yelling. Honestly, I would have preferred if he shouted, instead of looking at me with such a dangerously, quiet disgusted look on his face.

I looked at my shoes when replied in a small voice that I had used it to find a book, so that I didn't have to see that expression on his face again.

The silence that followed it wouldn't have been worse if the Red-heads hadn't decided that now would be a good time to shut their mouths. And here, I didn't think it was possible for them. God, they have the worst timing ever. Why can't they have any consideration to start shouting they're heads off?

So now the calm that settled around us was the type you felt when a storm was coming.

And man, was a storm a brewing.

"How did this happen?" Alfonso broke the silence with his eerily calm voice. Oh come on, just yell already. It'll make you feel better; it'll make me feel better. Heck, I think it'll even make the Red-heads feel better; they probably can't live with a normal decibel conversation anyway.

I almost said this out loud, but told Alfonso instead about how I must have fallen on it at one point in time when Rose was banging a book over my head. And it's true, I guess I must have stepped on it when I wasn't looking, and I didn't look for it afterwards.

I left out the part where I straddled her and rolled around, because it was bad enough two people were disgusted with me, I didn't want to give Rose a reason hate me as well.

I didn't get the laugh that I was hoping for when I finished my story, though. But strangely enough, by the time I finished my story, Rose's Dad seemed pretty pleased to hear about the fact that she bruised me with a book. And he seemed pretty proud of his daughter, if the admiring glint in his eye said anything. You know, I'm starting to think that Rose's Dad has it in for me, because that guy is cold.

Or has some major priority issues.

A few moments of silence had passed, and I felt about all the main internal organs drop into my stomach (metaphorically, of course. Because I dont want to gross out the only people nice enough to stay with me.) as the realization that I was probably losing a really good connection, slowly started to sink in.

When Alfonso finally spoke up, he was looking at me shrewdly and coldly. It looked like he considered the words pretty carefully to find the right ones to humiliate me further, so I wasn't that surprised to hear him say frostily. "That's funny. I don't remember lending you my wand in the first place."

I could hear someone gasp from among the Red-heads, and when I turned my head, Rose had her mouth open and was looking at me with an expression of disbelief, while her Dad's was a look of pure contempt. Which was pretty overreactive, I mean, I stole Alfonso's wand and broke it, not yours. Geesh. Rose's Dad had no right to look at me as if I was the dirt on his shoe.

I'm really not liking Rose's Dad, right now. Like at all. And by the look of almost undiluted hatred, it looks like the feelings mutual.

Great, I've barely spent two days here and I've made enemies with a guy that looked old enough to be my Dad.

I could feel my face flush (in the record of like 20 minutes. Impressive I have to say.) in embarrassment and muttered softly. "Yeah, I sort of borrowed it when you were working at the counter. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to break it, I swear!" I added the last sentence with as much fervor as I could muster.

But apparently, my sincerity isn't enough for the likes of them.

"You stole it!" Rose's Dad broke in incredulously; he looked pissed off and at the same time victorious as if it proved I was a horrible person. See, I knew he had something against me. But seriously? Why? What did I ever do to him? I barely even touched Rose, so I doubt her virtue is threatened. God, you know, Rose's Dad is a real ass.

"I borrowed it! Geez, you make it sound like some sort of federal offence." I couldn't help spitting out at Rose's dad.

"That's because you borrowed it, without my permission." This time it was Alfonso speaking, and I was caught off guard to hear the angry tone in his voice. I know, I was sort of silently wishing he would blow up, but well I didn't mean it. Seriously, think about it, is there anyone out there who actually means it when they say they want someone to yell at them? Someone who's like not a saint or had a messed up childhood? Yeah, get real.

I faced Alfonso who was looking at me oddly for the first time, kind of like how my principal would look at me when I did something bad, but wasn't admitting to it even if it was dead obvious. I tried to keep myself calm and assured, so that I'd be able to sift through the right words easily. And I really tried to apologize, like put everything I was feeling into my sorry speech.

"Alfonso, I'm sorry. Seriously, I am. I'll do anything, I'm not sure if a simple reparo can mend it, but I'll get my wand. Worst comes to worst, I'll pay for the damages if we have to take it to the local wand sho-"

I was cut off by Alfonso saying so quietly, I almost missed it. "Don't call me that."

"What?"

"Don't call me Alfonso."

He might as well have said "Save your breathe, kid, for someone who actually gives a damn." Or sucker punched me. They both would feel the same anyway.

It was as if a great big wave suddenly crashed on me, diffusing all my confusion and defiance. I guess it was because of the fact that Alfonso was on my side just a few seconds before, like I could count on him to back me up in this whole crazy ordeal, but I should have read the signs sooner because right now, I felt cold all over like someone just dumped a big bucket of ice down my back while I was still shivering from the cold. I couldn't even feel angry at Alfonso for embarrassing me in front of a live audience. I just felt embarrassed, sad, ashamed, and kind of betrayed.

And I didn't even know what for. A small little piece of stick? No, I had a feeling it went way deeper than that.

I managed to mutter a small, inaudible ok. It was the exact size I was feeling right now. I looked at my hands instead, because I couldn't bear to look at their cold and judging faces, and tried to say in a louder voice. "I'll pay for the damages, sir."

"No, I'll take it to the Ollivander's myself. Money can't buy everything back." Alfonso spat the last sentence back at me, causing me to involuntarily cringe. Why'd he have to sound so…cruel? I wanted to curl up and disappear right now, the humiliation was starting to get too much. "I need to go back to the front of the store." Shaking his head, he did another once over then walked down and out of the aisle. But not before saying softly, but still audibly.

"I guess I shouldn't have expected anything less from a Malfoy."

Those eleven words shocked me as much as the hating tone did. And I began to feel the small sparks of confusion light up. What? Why? How? Half formed questions flitted into my mind and settled themselves into a numbing circle of disbelief. God, what was going on? I could feel everything, every single flash of perplexity and panic, but I just couldn't find the words to fit it. I felt like I woke up finding myself under the sea with a plummeting amount of oxygen, confused and disoriented about how I got here in the first place. All my limbs wouldn't work and the only thoughts that were working at a normal pace were all questions, like "What the hell?" and "What is going on?" I couldn't even say anything right, not to explain, and not even to make sense of the situation. It was as if I was paralyzed with mystification, and everything was slow and crazy. Seriously, what the hell is happening?

What the hell is going on in here?!

My feet were firmly planted on the ground like roots in clayey soil, so I highly doubt that I could move them if I wanted to. But before I could summon the will to run away. Rose and her Dad beat him to it. I watched as if through a screen, unmoving as Rose's Dad turned around (I didn't want to see Rose's face, yet.) and led his daughter away from cautiously, as if scared I was going to spring up and sneeze on them to spread my disease or whatever. He didn't even look back at me the entire time. As if I wasn't even worth it.

But Rose did. I had no idea what was going on inside her head, as the girl turned her red-head and looked at me over her shoulder, before turning her head back. But it was enough, I saw the eyes filled with distrust, doubt and pity.

That look snapped me out of my funk. I did not need her pity. I did not want that bitch's pity. She just stood there the entire time letting me take the blame for everything. Rose wouldn't look at me before that, and when she finally did, it was to show her final look of mistrust and embarrassment. Embarrassment for ever even touching me, I bet.

Well guess, what? I don't want her pity. Actually I think, I'll be very happy if I don't look at either of their faces for the rest of my life.

She was partly to blame for all this, but she just switched off the moment I said my name.

And as if the last few words in my head reminded Ron about everything that happened, he said in a perfectly audible voice, as I glared at the retreating backs.

"See what did I tell you, Rosie? He's just like his father." Then followed quickly by a small thump and more resigned version of his voice. "Honestly, Rose, would you watch where you're going?"

What? My…Dad? What the hell does he have anything to do with this? I was filled with such shock and anger at them for even mentioning my Dad, that I was paralyzed again. On the spot.

I was left there blinking wildly at the spot they were last in before they disappeared into the front of the store.

I found my voice too little too late, however. Because the moment I opened my mouth to say those 'special' words (ahem, and not the nicest words I had in my dictionary, mind you.) they went down an aisle and out of view. Geesh, can't someone up there just cut me some slack for like 5 seconds? I just suffered public humiliation and betrayal; you'd think they'd at least give me like a minute of good timing! God!

Seriously, I had half a mind to chase after them and demand answers. But I didn't want to go just yet, because that incident wasn't the quietest, and they were at least 20 other people in the proximity. I flushed at that thought of my more public, public humiliation. And I also wasn't sure if The Reds were the right persons to tell me. I wasn't sure if they even had the answers I was looking for. (Which wasn't saying much now, I was pretty much only sure about my name at this point.)

Actually, I was beginning to have a sneaking suspicion that my Dad was the one I should ask.

Nothing made sense anymore, I wanted answers and I wanted them now. But I knew that those…red-heads, wouldn't have the response I was looking for. And I bet they wouldn't be too stoked if I suddenly pounced on them and demanded them to explain what the hell was going on.

I had the feeling that there were only a couple of people could shed some light in this extremely confusing disaster.

But it didn't mean that that made anything clearer, either. It just gave me something to do. And well, jumping blindly ahead isn't exactly my forte. Well not most of the time anyway. I like to simmer in my pitiful, messed-up thoughts before I do something, thanks. So yeah, guessing that my Dad had a weird past wasn't exactly giving me a high.

If anything it just made everything more confusing as ever. Seriously, what the hell is going on? Why are people treating me like that? I thought as I practically ran out of the store into the pouring rain, and I wasn't unaware of the hateful glares sent my way. Not all of them could have a stick far up their butt, so they must have heard.

And most importantly, what the hell just happened?

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Okay, this is a pretty short chapter. Well compared to the last one anyway. Didya like it? Didn't? Don't worry, I'm not just rambling at this point and posting whatever purple prose that comes to mind, most of the stuff are actually entwined with the storyline. So it's not just some random weird occasions I throw together, well once in a while it is. But I have a storyline and I will stick to it. Hope you guys liked it. I am proud to say, no sleepless nights for this one, and pretty impressive seeing as school started like a couple of weeks ago. But yeah, don't hate Rose too much, or do, a lot of Scorp's feelings are coming out in the next chapter, so you'll probably not like her that much sooner or later. Don't worry, she has her reasons. The future chapters will explain everything!

Honestly, I have mixed feelings for this one. I guess, my hope for around 3 chapters before the Hogwarts scene is out the door. There's too much to cover. Sorry!!! But yeah, there's gonna be a lot of stuff happening in Diagon Alley, so head up! I'm actually rushing and pasting events together. Turns out, I had to tweak some stuff, because I keep on changing some lines. I know, some stuff are pretty random but yeah, hopefully the next chapter would put those little tidbits to good use. And it's on it's way.

I'd write more to explain and I think I missed the shout out, and sorry, sorry, sorry and sorry. But I'm pretty disoriented right now. And like practically sleeping while sitting. So I'll just probably write an early entry and post an author's note. SORRY GUYS!! I hope you guys at least enjoyed this chapter. You know I love you readers, thanks for everything, you honestly made me go on with this. Alerters, Reviewers, Subscribers, you guys are awesome! But I'll be a little biased and say that reviewers are the best. But you guys are great all the same. Scorp is too busy sleeping (lazy bint.) so yeah, I'll rap this up. Thanks you guys and see yah in a bit.

~Ms-drooling-on-the-keyboard


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